


Magnetic In Our Purple Season Six

by AsagaoSylph



Series: Magnetic In Our Purple [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BAMF Allura (Voltron), BAMF Hunk (Voltron), BAMF Keith (Voltron), BAMF Lance (Voltron), F/F, Fix-It, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Love at First Sight, M/M, Plot, Protective Lance (Voltron), Sequel, Team as Family, implied/referenced child abandonment, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 01:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 65,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20127313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsagaoSylph/pseuds/AsagaoSylph
Summary: Keith blew a bang out of his face and clasped Shiro’s hand, pulling him in for a quick hug before darting with Lance towards Black. This was the twelfth attack this movement, and between Black’s mind-melding exercises, late-night strategy sessions with Lance and Allura, and the strikes barraging them regardless of time, he was starting to feel more like a sock puppet than a paladin. Even Lance’s blue eyes were covered by a sleep-deprived sheen of dogged adrenaline, but his hand was firm as it covered Keith’s over their joystick.ORAs Keith and Lance adjust to leading together, a new arrival threatens to unravel everything Keith has made himself into, and Lance struggles with a looming threat on the diplomatic front. As the love between them blooms, will the universe's new changes bring their Voltron family closer or will it destroy them all?





	1. Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith tightened his hold on the joystick and tried to shake the bangs from his face as Black roared around them. A smile rippled over his face, every muscle coiling as if he were the one about to spring from the hangar, and the world sharpening into focus. He could feel Lance’s thoughts already nudging at his own, asking permission to come in, waiting for him to give the green light. Lance always waited until he was ready.

Okay, the emergency alarm was completely overkill in Keith’s opinion; they already got the whole “we’re trying to be killed” thing from the oversized explosions along the castle walls and the familiar hiss of Galra fighters. The added shrieking was just annoying.  
  
“Pidge, Allura will clear the way for you to get to the back,” said Lance, shoving the black helmet over his head as he jolted Keith back to reality and grinned at the shorter girl. “Once you’re behind the fighters, light up that new trinket you’ve been working on, and we’ll be back in time for breakfast.”  
  
“Hunk!” Called Keith, tightening his gauntlets as he locked eyes with the Yellow Paladin. “You keep the fighters from barraging the castle. Shiro, you’re with Lance and I; we’re going to engage the front and try to keep them away from Allura and Pidge.”  
  
“Roger that!” Replied Hunk immediately, dashing for his tunnel to the Yellow Lion’s hangar, and Pidge only shared a fist bump and a cocky smirk with Lance before sprinting for her own Lion.  
  
“Radio if you need anything,” said Lance, patting Allura’s shoulder. “V vedal fxd.”  
  
“Incondicionalmente,” she answered warmly, taking off for her Lion.  
  
Keith blew a bang out of his face and clasped Shiro’s hand, pulling him in for a quick hug before darting with Lance towards Black. This was the twelfth attack this movement, and between Black’s mind-melding exercises, late-night strategy sessions with Lance and Allura, and the strikes barraging them regardless of time, he was starting to feel more like a sock puppet than a paladin. Even Lance’s blue eyes were covered by a sleep-deprived sheen of dogged adrenaline, but his hand was firm as it covered Keith’s over their joystick.  
  
“Let’s light ‘em up, partner!” He declared, smile blazing in the cold morning and burning away the fog of sleep twisting around inside of Keith’s brain.  
  
Keith tightened his hold on the joystick and tried to shake the bangs from his face as Black roared around them. A smile rippled over his face, every muscle coiling as if he were the one about to spring from the hangar, and the world sharpening into focus. He could feel Lance’s thoughts already nudging at his own, asking permission to come in, waiting for him to give the green light. Lance always waited until he was ready.  
  
“You’re on,” replied Keith, and that was all the invitation Lance needed.  
  
Black shot from the hangar, and Keith braced himself as both his lion and partner’s thoughts surged through his mind, swirling and dancing around his own like a dripping sunset. It had been over two movements since they had started piloting Black together, but it took his breath away every time Lance’s emotions flowed between them; he was a light show of love, tenacity, confidence, unbreakable devotion to his team, and a million other colors Keith still hadn’t pieced together yet.  
  
Lance was beautiful.  
  
“Pidge, you’re going to want to engage that cloaking now!” Warned Lance; he had always recovered faster from their mind melds both as a duo and as a full team. “Allura, watch the gremlin!”  
  
“Lance!” Growled Pidge.  
  
“I mean, do you really need cloaking when you’re that small?”  
  
“_Lance, I will end you!_”  
  
Keith rolled his eyes and straightened his back even as Lance’s giggles filtered through the comms.  
  
“Look alive guys,” he called. “Watch each other’s backs and radio if anything changes.”  
  
“Roger that!” Crowed Pidge, vanishing into the stars as if she had never been there at all.  
  
“Understood,” replied Allura, shooting through the sky ahead of where the Green Lion presumably was, claws sharp and teeth bared.  
  
“Alright, let’s kick some butt!” Cheered Hunk, and Shiro let out a hum of approval.  
  
Lance beamed, his thumb ghosting over the back of Keith’s hand and mind fully locking in with Keith’s. Somehow, it always seemed to be on the same thought.  
  
_I got you._  
  
And their world exploded into chaos.

  


“Oh quiznak to the YEAH!” Whooped Pidge the moment everyone landed in the Castle of Lions, pumping her arms in pure triumph as Lance blew out a laugh. “I _knew_ using the orbital shifts of electrons to transform direct currents into alternating ones would fry their systems; they can’t handle the overflow and not burn themselves out! Take that, Edison!”  
  
“Alright, Pidge, as glad as I am that you’re putting dead scientists to shame,” teased Shiro as if he weren’t smiling from ear to ear, “I think we should grab breakfast and debrief before Hunk starts crying.”  
  
“I nearly left the stove on!” Wailed Hunk, and Lance snorted.  
  
“Yeah, you weren’t going to do that again after your ninth birthday. Come on, we can debrief over breakfast! Allura, has Coran fixed the main training room yet?”  
  
“Not yet, but I am sure we can make due with the spare room you usually prefer,” replied Allura, and Keith sank back into his seat with a soft moan.  
  
“Yeah, it should be big enough!” Chirped Lance, sliding his hand from the joystick to rest on Keith’s shoulder: their silent way of asking if the other was okay. “We’ll be down in a tick, see you guys at breakfast!”  
  
The comms died, and Keith covered Lance’s hand with his own in response.  
  
“I’m good. Just tired.”  
  
Lance let out a huff and plopped back against his own seat, eyes still a shade brighter than usual.  
  
“Yeah, these guys are wack!” He exclaimed, his hand lingering on Keith’s paladin armor. “I mean, do they ever sleep?! I swear, next time they come after us past midnight, I’m going to nail the guards in the face with pillows and see if they all just fall asleep! Kapow! Battle won!”  
  
Keith let out a bark of laughter, folding Lance’s hand into his own and tugging the taller boy to his feet.  
  
“Come on, Sharpshooter, let’s get the paperwork over with and have some breakfast. We’re going to need it.”  
  
“You said it!” Groaned Lance, making a huge show of dragging himself upright. “Allura is in full demon mode today, so I’m probably going to be doing most of the diplomating when Lotor sends his goon over in the afternoon. Heads up, Pidge is running on caffeine at this point, so she’s going to be _vicious_ in sparring.”  
  
Keith chuckled, shoulders relaxing as Lance’s familiar steps synced with his own on the ramp off their Lion.  
  
“Speaking of sparring, how are you doing with Shiro?” He asked just quietly enough that the rest of their team couldn’t hear them, but Lance’s fingers still tightened around his own. “You’re still scared to beat him.”  
  
“I nearly won yesterday,” replied Lance with a shrug. “So I’d say we’re getting better. I mean, it’s like you said. He’s our Shiro. Nothing to worry about. Especially in comparison to a certain coffee-powered tiny green goblin!”  
  
“_That’s it!_” Screeched Pidge, dashing after the Black Paladin as he fled with something between a laugh and a shriek. “Lance, get over here! I am going to electrocute you, string you up with my bayard, and throw you out of the airlock!”  
  
“Wow, good thing I’m the diplomat, ‘cause that’s definitely not the way to get someone to come over to you!”  
  
“YOU STARTED THIS WHOLE THING, MR. DIPLOMAT!”  
  
Shiro opened his mouth (probably to tell the two to knock it off so everyone could go eat and debrief), but Keith just grinned at him and shook his head. He had a pretty good idea of where this was headed.  
  
“HYAAAAAH!” Crowed Pidge as she launched herself onto Lance’s back, legs locking around his stomach and arms latching around his neck. “I win this round, McClain!”  
  
“Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine,” surrendered Lance, his lips curling into a smile as he leaned forward so Pidge could adjust her grip better. “I _guess_ I could carry the victor to breakfast if it means I won’t get thrown out of the airlock.”  
  
Pidge yawned and nestled into his hoodie.  
  
“I’ll consider it, you Shetland pony.”  
  
“Excuse you, I am a mustang!” Exclaimed Lance in mock indignation, slipping his arms under her knees as her ankles unlocked.  
  
Shiro’s mouth transformed into a small o. Keith giggled, and Lance shot a full sunflower grin in his direction as Pidge begun snoring on his back. He was one of the team’s diplomats for a reason, after all.  
  
And no, Keith was definitely not thinking about how cute Lance looked when carefully adjusting a drooling Pidge to make sure she didn’t fall, and he wasn’t imagining their kid sprawled across Lance’s back either!  
  
“Keith, you’re blushing~” whispered Shiro, and Keith accidentally stomped on Shiro’s boot before whipping off after Hunk to breakfast.  
  
Lance was busy hissing Spanish curses as he tried to keep Pidge from sliding off his back, but every time he got her situated, she immediately leaned to the other side. Even his nephew wasn’t this bad, and that kid drank slushies instead of water!  
  
“Vamos, trabaja conmigo aquí, Pidgeon,” he muttered, shifting his own weight and hitching Pidge over his shoulder just enough to limit her squirming.  
  
Shiro chuckled and plopped his hand on Lance’s head, careful to use his biological one so it wouldn’t snare the younger man’s hair.  
  
“Thank you,” he whispered. “For looking after everyone. You make a great Black Paladin, Lance.”  
  
Lance stood perfectly still, Pidge snoring on his back, and stared at Shiro like he had just transformed into a glowing Altean queen. Light pooled into his eyes, contorting and squirming as they creased, threatening at any second to spill over in a fountain of memories Shiro couldn’t even begin to see. The air felt like thin spires of ice pushed to their breaking point, like one wrong move would shatter whatever was happening, would shatter the teenager in front of him balancing a friend on his back and the weight of the universe on his shoulders.  
  
Lance’s forehead pressed against Shiro’s palm, and Shiro nearly jumped as the shorter boy nuzzled into his touch slowly, carefully, like Shiro was the fragile one. Or maybe like he knew he was fragile.  
  
“Thank you, Shiro,” exhaled Lance so softly it was almost lost to the silent training room. “Thank you.”  
  
“Uh, you’re welcome?”  
  
Lance twisted so his mouth was covered by Shiro’s hand, small tremors passing through him as the giggles were hidden away from Pidge’s exhausted ears.  
  
“You are definitely Keith’s brother,” he managed to sneak out amongst his near-silent laughter. “Awkward as a child in a suit.”  
  
“That felt very specific,” grumbled Shiro, a smile sneaking its way across his face.  
  
“Oh, it was,” promised Lance, stifling the last of his giggles in favor of a sweeping grin. “But who says a kid can’t pull off a suit?”  
  
Shiro tipped his head to the side, eyebrows rising as Lance’s smile only grew and he spun out of the room, steps light and sure as if he were dancing on sunlight. It was somehow comforting.

  


Okay, so yes, Lance had guessed he would be doing most of the diplomating with Lotor’s hooligan when they came over, sure. He knew Allura pushed herself just as hard as she did the rest of the paladins, and that she had taken to training with Red in the evening once she finished strategizing with Lance and Keith. Their planning sessions sometimes lasted right up till two in the morning, but Lance could still hear her racing to Red’s hangar afterwards to try and strengthen their bond. She wanted this to be a smooth transition both on and off the battlefield, and was willing to sacrifice her sleep and comfort to ensure that. Lance had known all of this acutely.  
  
He had not known that the decidedly cute general Lotor had sent over was going to completely short-circuit her brain though!  
  
“General Acxa,” announced the woman, bowing slightly. “Emperor Lotor sent me as an emissary to assist with coordinating actions on Warlord Trugg and Ladnok’s recently combined front.”  
  
“A pleasure,” replied Lance, his grin just as genuine as the stars shining in Allura’s eyes. “My name is Lance, I’m one of Voltron’s Black Paladins and diplomats. This,” he added, shepherding Allura forward as his eyes took on a slightly devious gleam, “is Princess Allura of Altea. She’s the Red Paladin of Voltron and our best diplomat, not to mention the charming head of the Voltron Coalition!”  
  
“Lance!” Hissed Allura, cheeks flushed strawberry red and Altean markings glowing at the heat.  
  
“A pleasure,” squeaked Acxa after a second, her own cheeks shining a bright silver and eyes flitting around the room as she cleared her throat. “I—uh—that is, we—Lotor and I—as emperor and general, of course—we have, um, come to request Voltron’s aid in f-fighting these warlords off and, uh, you know, stabilizing the Galra Empire. We can be a better ally to Voltron if we have a strong foundation.”  
  
Lance sent his thanks to whatever holy force had kept Pidge from being in the room for this blushing, sputtered excuse for a greeting. He really hoped he wasn’t as bad with Keith, dios mios.  
  
“Awesome!” Declared Lance, clapping his hands together and hoping his voice hadn’t squeaked with any of his restrained laughter. “How many warlords are we down to at this point? I know the Blade and Voltron have been working nonstop on it, but does your Empire have any solid numbers on the rebellions?”  
  
Acxa’s attentions slid to him, the silver shine to her cheeks vanishing immediately and her stance tightening.  
  
“If we can defeat Ladnok and Trugg, we shall only have three primary threats left,” she replied curtly. “They have all banded together, and the Blade is currently tracking their movements in conjunction with the Empire.”  
  
“That is splendid,” managed Allura, her voice an octave higher than usual and Altean markings nearly as bright as the actual lamps lining the walls. “We are very grateful for the new Galra Empire’s assistance in this war.”  
  
“My—I mean—our pleasure, Your Highness,” said Acxa amidst a rush of giggles. “We want nothing more than a universe free for all.”  
  
“Indeed! Free for all!”  
  
The two women shrieked out a brief flurry of laughter, and Lance had to dig his heels into the ground to keep from bolting at the sheer level of awkwardness. So, he had to teach Allura how to flirt properly ASAP. And no, not the casual dumb pickup lines that he tossed around for fun; he had explained to her long ago that those were just to lighten the mood. Actual flirting he was quite good at; there was a reason he was popular at the Garrison and it wasn’t just his gorgeous appearance.  
  
He would apparently have to start by explaining that agreeing enthusiastically over the liberty of the universe as part of their war campaign did not count as flirting.  
  
“Alright, great!” He chirped. “We’re expecting a Blade of Marmora ship to dock any dobash now, and my partner will be along shortly. He got caught up in…a training emergency.”  
  
Lance didn’t really want to explain the sudden decision the oven had made after lunch to shoot glittering green fire around the room when it was left on for more than five dobashes, so he just went with that. “Allura, would you escort Acxa to the main meeting room? Keith and I will greet the Blade’s representative and be right there.”  
  
He flashed the taller girl a wink and was rewarded with a brief deluxe-murder glare before Acxa threaded her arm through Allura’s and allowed herself to be led from the room in a haze of giggles, awkward stammering, and flirting attempts so painful that even Lance couldn’t hide his wince. Good thing Rachel had taught him to flirt; it was time to pass along her knowledge.  
  
“Lance? We got the oven to just spit normal fire, I figured that’ll work for now?” Called Keith, tripping through the other door with green glitter flashing from his mullet and that sheepish tilt to his lips that sent Lance’s heart into a tap dance. “Where’s Lotor’s creep?”  
  
Lance didn’t bother to bite back his grin, throwing an arm over Keith’s shoulder and waggling his eyebrows like he used to do whenever any of his siblings brought home a partner.  
  
“She is off being romanced by Allura!” He cheered, a mischievous glint overtaking his eyes. “Not sure constant stammering is overly romantic, but they were both blushing, so I’ll take it!”  
  
Keith’s smile transformed instantly, lips pursing into a thin line and eyebrows jerking downwards like a nose-diving jet.  
  
“Wait, Allura’s flirting with someone?”  
  
“Trying to,” snickered Lance. “I am really going to have to tell her that compliments are the key to real flirting.”  
  
Keith’s hand seized Lance’s shoulder, fingers light but firm, and Lance blinked at the shorter teen like he had grown a third head. Why was he asking if Lance was okay? “Uh, yeah, I’m good?” Stammered Lance blankly. “I mean, sure, her flirting was pretty painful, but I’ll survive!”  
  
Keith gave a sharp hiss as if trying to bite back a growl, and Lance’s own hand slid over Keith’s shoulder. “Hey, you good over there, Samurai?”  
  
Keith blew a strand of hair out of the way and jerked his chin towards the Blade of Marmora ship just pulling in to dock.  
  
“Yeah. We’ll talk more once we finish this, got it?” He said it like a promise and also a threat, but Lance couldn’t bring himself to be scared of Keith.  
  
He trusted him too much.  
  
The ramp to the ship dropped, and Lance stepped forward at the same time Keith stepped back. A familiar rhythm, one they had mastered long before Lance even became a Black Paladin, but one that shot liquid courage into Lance’s veins before each meeting. Because Keith was trusting him enough to take a backseat and let Lance do the flying here.  
  
“Welcome to the Castle of Lions!” Greeted Lance, bowing to the tall Galra woman while keeping his eyes locked on her face (had he seen her before?). “I’m Lance McClain, one of the Black Paladins and diplomats of Voltron. You are the Blade’s representative?”  
  
“Indeed,” replied the woman, returning the bow and straightening to study both boys. “I am Kolivan’s second, recently returned from an expedition mission to the Quantum Abyss. My name is Krolia Kogane.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vamos, trabaja conmigo aquí, Pidgeon=Come on, work with me, Pidgeon
> 
> I own nothing!


	2. Kogane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is the Kogane residence?” Asked the fireman standing in the doorway, his helmet pressed close to his heart and voice a few notes away from cracking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for implied character death, explicit homophobia including slurs, and childhood abandonment. If you think this will be too much, please skip to the paragraph beginning with "Kogane, expelled" and continue reading. This will maintain the plot line. The last thing I want to do is hurt anyone, so please take care!

“Kogane?” Asked Keith’s dad, tucking a pen behind his ear as he continued to sketch out the design for Keith’s new bed that they were going to build together next week. “Why do you ask?”  
  
Keith shifted from one foot to another, clinging to the floppy stuffed hippo he carried everywhere and biting at his bottom lip. His dad said he got that habit from his mother.  
  
“Because that’s Mom last name, right?” He asked. “There are only two Davises in this town! I bet we could find Mom by asking for the other Kogane!”  
  
His father threw back his head with a bright laugh and stretched over to ruffle Keith’s hair even as the six-year-old squirmed against the touch.  
  
“It’s not that simple, champ,” he sighed amidst the chuckles. “But who knows? Maybe someday, you’ll go out there and find her.”  
  
His dad leaned back into the diagram, his eyes reflecting the light of the old lamps he loved to keep and touch softer on the paper. “I hope you do, buddy. She was the greatest thing that ever happened to me besides you. I really hope you get a chance to meet her.”

  


“Kogane? Kogane!” Snarled the teacher, snapping Keith’s attention back to the board as he slapped the family diagram. “Could you please explain the choice Rosa makes in the last chapter to call her mother after a year of silence?”  
  
Keith scowled, propping his chin up with his fist and narrowing his eyes to slits. He wanted to climb out the window and run until he made it home, but his father was still at work and wouldn’t be there to unlock a window for him to crawl through like a spy movie. He would have to wait a few more hours.  
  
“No.”  
  
Mr. Clement’s frown deepened into something cold, dark, dangerous. Keith’s shoulders locked.  
  
“Why don’t we try that again. Kogane, explain the choice Rosa makes in the last chapter to call her mother after a year of silence. Did you do the reading?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Did you understand it?”  
  
“No,” snarled Keith. “Because Rosa’s dumb.”  
  
But even as the eight-year-old said it, the gasps and titters of his classmates echoing in his ears, he wasn’t sure why. Because her mother had walked out on them and abandoned Rosa and her father to a year of self-hatred and wondering? Or because Rosa was lucky enough to have any link to her mother and had waited a whole year to call?

  


“This is the Kogane residence?” Asked the fireman standing in the doorway, his helmet pressed close to his heart and voice a few notes away from cracking.  
  
Keith’s fingers tightened around the doorknob and he tried to peer around the man to see if his dad was preparing one of his crazy jump scares again. His dad’s partner loved to get in on those; he had even recorded one. Keith still didn’t really believe that had been his voice, there was no way his shriek got that high.  
  
“Yeah?” Replied Keith slowly. “Where’s Dad?”  
  
“Is your mother here?”  
  
Keith let out a sharp growl and would have slammed the door in his dad’s partner’s face right then and there if the man hadn’t looked like someone had sucked the life out of his eyes already.  
  
“No!” He snapped. “I don’t have a mom! Where’s my dad? He said he was going to help me finish my space collage for art class!”  
  
Tears trickled down the fireman’s face, and when he crouched so he was eye level to Keith, the nine-year-old saw that he was covered in soot and ash. Straight from the scene of the fire. _No._  
  
“Keith—”  
  
“Where’s my dad?!” Screamed Keith, pushing past the man and spinning to glare around the yard like it was hiding his father from him. “Where is he?! He said he’d be home! _Where is my dad?!_”  
  
“Keith,” whispered the fireman, one hand just grazing Keith’s shoulder before the smaller boy leapt back. “Keith, your father gave his life in the line of duty. He died saving an entire family that everyone else thought were beyond help. He was a hero.”  
  
“_I don’t want a hero!_” Cried Keith, clutching his head and screaming until he thought his voice was going to give out. “_I want my dad!_”  
  
He wanted his family back.

  


“Kogane!” Screeched Keith, swiping his foster brother’s kick away and slamming his fist against the other boy’s jaw. “Take that back! My last name is _Kogane!_”  
  
“Keith, stop that!” Cried his foster mother, swooping in to yank her son away from the enraged ten-year-old. “I told you, you can’t hit other people and expect that to solve anything!”  
  
“You faggy freak!” Screamed the teenager cradled safely in his mother’s arms. “You’re just Keith the Freak! Keith Freakgane!”  
  
“KOGANE!” Roared Keith and, mother be shot, pounced on the wriggling boy and threw all his rage and grief and hatred into his fists, his kicks, his teeth, everything he had.  
  
He was the last one with this name, and he would protect it, no matter what. He was the only one who could anymore.

  


“Kogane?” Called the woman, approaching the short eleven-year-old who looked one word away from biting everyone in the room around him. “Keith Kogane?”  
  
“Yeah?” Spat Keith.  
  
“I am your new foster mother,” said the woman soothingly, crouching beside the boy. “I have a daughter a few years older than you; I hope you will get along with her.”  
  
“Is she going to hit me?” Growled Keith, jerking away from the woman.  
  
“No, dear,” she promised. “If she does, you tell me right away.”  
  
“I’ll punch her.”  
  
“Come tell me instead,” suggested the woman with a smile. “You’re too big to be hitting anyone. Are you ready to go home?”  
  
Yes, Keith was. He was ready to go back to that desert shack, to his father’s stupid hair ruffles and awful dinners and early morning coffee smell. But that wasn’t what she meant. So he just kept quiet.  
  
He didn’t last more than a month there before someone outed him. Then there was screaming and crying and someone said something about conversion therapy. Keith ran.

  


“Kogane? That’s an interesting last name,” said the space explorer, plopping beside Keith in the juvenile detention center.  
  
“It’s my dad’s.”  
  
“I’m Shirogane. Shirogane Takashi,” replied the man with a smile. “It’s my mom’s last name. My dad died before I was born.”  
  
Keith’s chest seized and he jerked his head up to stare at the tall, muscular explorer who was everything he had ever wanted to be. Confident, powerful, fearless.  
  
“Mine died two years ago.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” said Shiro. “Where’s your mom? I should call her.”  
  
“Gone. Never knew her,” growled Keith, twisting closer to the wall as if to rip the door closed before this man could ever come in.  
  
“Who are you living with then?”  
  
“Group home.”  
  
Shiro nodded, a slight smile pressing at his lips as he dropped a hand on Keith’s shoulder.  
  
“Great, that makes this a lot easier. How would you like to be a pilot?”  
  
Keith just stared.  
  
“I stole your car and you’re offering me a job?”  
  
Shiro laughed, pressing a card into Keith’s hand and standing.  
  
“I’m offering you a second chance.”

  


“Kogane. First place in pilot rankings, promoted to fighter class,” announced Shiro, smile blossoming over his face as he met Keith’s eyes and gave him just the slightest nod.  
  
Finally, maybe, Keith could bring some pride to his name.

  


“Kogane? It sounds like ours!” Translated Shiro as his mom patted down Keith’s hair, her sweet Japanese filling the air along with the faint scent of fried bread. “You are a handsome boy. What do you eat?”  
  
“I, uh, I’ll eat anything,” murmured Keith, feeling like pins and needles were being pressed against his skin at each gentle touch.  
  
Shiro whispered something to his mother, folding his flight jacket into the closet and winking at her. Then he gestured at Keith and continued talking for a solid two minutes before she finally nodded.  
  
“Shiro!” Complained Keith; that answer was way too long to be what he had said!  
  
Mrs. Shirogane flew to the fridge with a pleased hum, tugging Keith along with her. She chattered animatedly at him even though he clearly had no clue what she was saying, placing a soda in front of him and cocking her head in the same way Shiro did whenever asking a question.  
  
“I-I’m good?” Murmured Keith.  
  
Mrs. Shirogane beamed, patting his head and flitting over to Shiro in a flurry of Japanese.  
  
Keith glanced around the room, brows crinkling at the sizzling stovetop. Did she mean to leave that on? Wait, had she just asked him to do something? Was he supposed to be—?  
  
A sudden pop shattered the silence of the room, jolting Keith in his seat, and his eyes shot to the stovetop. Oh. That was probably something he was supposed to be watching. But what was he watching for?!  
  
“Keith, make yourself at home,” chorused Shiro and his mother as they entered the kitchen, the older woman stepping quickly to the stove and lowering the heat while Shiro sat down beside Keith.  
  
“Why did you bring me here?” Hissed Keith just below the pop of the frying oil. “It’s your day off and I’m not exactly a kid that adults love.”  
  
That was more Taylor’s forte; the stupidly cute boy in his class who seemed like he could charm his way through the Garrison if he wanted to. He was smart, but slept a lot at his desk, and Iverson loved targeting him to chew out. Keith had seen Taylor’s notes though; he knew the boy cared more than he seemed to.  
  
“Keith,” Shiro sighed, jolting the blushing boy back to reality as he reached over and tugged off the ramune cap’s wrapper. “Do you like it here?”  
  
Keith gulped, eyes flitting around the house. It was immaculately polished, pictures of Shiro and his mother hanging on the walls, certificates framed, and the faintest scent coming from lavender on the table. The rattle and scrape of cooking in the background, the pop of a soda bottle being handed to him, and the gentle smiles of two people who had looked at him and said “home” like that was something he could hope for. Like that was something they were willing to offer him.  
  
“Hai.”  
  
Shiro’s smile nearly split his face at that and he shoved the strawberry ramune to Keith just as his mother brought over a plate full of tempura.  
  
“That’s why, buddy.”

  


“Kogane! Fall in line!” Teased Adam, yanking Keith over to the couch and shoving him in the middle. “_The Rescuers_ is a beautiful work of art and it is tonight’s movie!”  
  
Shiro laughed, wrapping an arm around Keith and leaning against the cushions like this was their everyday. It had only been a few months since Shiro had started interacting with Keith more outside of school, but it had already been two years since Keith had begun flying at the Garrison. He still couldn’t seem to settle in with the other cadets though.  
  
“Popcorn, twizzlers, anything I’m missing?” Called Adam as he went through the cupboard.  
  
“Ramune!” Chorused Shiro and Keith, and Adam threw back his head with a laugh so familiar it sent shivers through Keith’s heart.  
  
He saw so much of his father in Shiro and Adam that it hurt sometimes.  
  
“Have you finally learned to open your own drink?” Teased Shiro ruffling his hair and making the smaller boy snort. “Without spewing it across half the food on the table?”  
  
“I did that once!” Complained Keith, heat rising to his cheeks as he remembered Shiro’s giggles and Mrs. Shirogane’s soothing promises that it wasn’t a big deal.  
  
It scared him how much she seemed like……well, like a mother at times. Like she was his mother too.  
  
“Keith, if you get strawberry ramune in our popcorn, I will disown you,” deadpanned Adam as he passed the drinks to the two and plopped the popcorn bowl directly in Keith’s lap before starting the movie.  
  
Halfway through, Keith knew he was doing something wrong. He should be focusing on the adorable mice, the sweet Bernard, the funny cat, the cool agency, or the overdone makeup of the villain. He should be fixated on the crocodiles or the escape attempts or…or anything other than the fact that Penny was an orphan. She was an orphan. She was like him. With no one who wanted to adopt her or love her. And that was all he could think about throughout the entire film.  
  
‘“Keith, are you okay?” Asked Shiro, eyes wide as Keith stared at the ending credits with his lip caught between his teeth to curb the sobs.  
  
“She found a family,” he whispered, hands tightening around one another and shoulders rising to hide the tears glistening in his eyes. “I’m so glad she found a family.”  
  
Adam shifted beside him, and Keith went rigid in preparation for the lecture. Boys didn’t cry. Boys didn’t show emotion, they didn’t let other people see their weaknesses, and they definitely didn’t get weepy over a happy ending.  
  
“Keith,” breathed Adam. “You have a family too.”

  


“Kogane!” Called the teacher, stepping into the room. “Professor Wazir is asking for you.”  
  
“Hai,” replied Keith, ignoring the confused glances of his classmates at the Japanese.  
  
If Shiro’s mother wasn’t fluent in English, then he would just learn Japanese so she could communicate with him properly and ask him to check the washing machine instead of the dishwasher by accident. If he confused his classmates, that was just a bonus.  
  
“Hi Keith,” greeted Adam.  
  
“Hey,” replied Keith, shifting from one foot to the other. “What’s happening?”  
  
Keith cringed the moment the words were out of his mouth. He already knew what was happening. He knew Adam and Shiro were fighting over Shiro’s decision to leave on the latest expedition, and even though they were careful to keep him out of the room for any actual arguments, it had been a while since they had a movie night. It had been a while since they had family time.  
  
Keith knew that it was falling apart. He knew this song and dance, and he could only guess Adam was the one who had decided to tell him that this new potential family had broken. Again. When was Keith going to stop getting his hopes up? He was the last Kogane. He didn’t have a home or a family.  
  
“Would you like to stay at my apartment while Takashi is on the mission?” Asked Adam, tilting his head to the side with a slight smile. “I know the rules are that underage cadets can’t live off campus, but you’d kill any roommate inside of three seconds, and my apartment is close enough that I…_persuaded_ Iverson to make an exception. Mrs. Shirogane is fantastic, but there’s a language barrier, and I don’t think you should be in Takashi’s…apartment (why does he call it that? It’s a tiny suite in the corners of the Garrison!) by yourself for all that time. You could get a dorm room if you want, but it’s up to you. What do you think?”  
  
Something inside Keith curled, wrapping itself into a coil so tight he couldn’t breathe, heat pricking at his eyes and heart trying to deafen him.  
  
“Why?” He whispered, ignoring the slight crack in his voice and hoping Adam would do the same. “Why are you helping me?”  
  
Adam’s eyebrows quirked, and he took a sip of his coffee before letting it clink back to his desk.  
  
“Because you’re family,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ve known you for four years now, nearly five. You’re like a little brother. Like I’m going to let you go now.”  
  
But he could. Even Keith’s mother had walked out on him, why wouldn’t Adam? What was keeping him or anyone else from leaving when the person who was supposed to love him unconditionally hadn’t cared enough to stay?  
  
“So, what do you say?” Asked Adam, offering his coffee to the sixteen-year-old with a smile far warmer than the steaming drink. “Want to stay with me?”  
  
Keith’s arms moved like they were underwater, reaching up to cradle the offered cup and press the brim to his lips. There was no guarantee. Ever. But maybe Adam was a risk worth taking.  
  
“Yeah.”

  


“Kogane! Fall in line!” Screamed Iverson.  
  
“Yes sir,” grumbled Keith, sliding into his spot beside two kids he still didn’t know after flying beside them for months.  
  
“What is your reason for being tardy today?” Bellowed Iverson. “You are a fighter-class cadet at the Galaxy Garrison, you can’t afford this sort of sloppiness! It’s attitudes like these that cost the lives of the men on the Kerberos mission!”  
  
Keith growled low in his throat, trying to keep the bubbling red inside him from throwing his fist into Iverson’s face. He couldn’t do anything that might cause Adam trouble; he was out on a mission right now. He just had to keep it boiling inside, throw it all at the punching bag later. He would be fine, he had done this plenty of times—  
  
“Complacency allows fags into the military! Putting one in charge of the mission to Kerberos doomed it to failu—!”  
  
**_CRACK_**

  


Kogane, expelled. Kogane, family gone so many times over he couldn’t count. Kogane, cursed. Kogane, failure. Kogane, unlovable. Kogane, alone. That was what it meant to be a Kogane. And Keith was a Kogane. But he wore the title with pride. It was his father’s legacy, no matter how painful, and Keith loved his father. The Koganes were filled with love. They just didn’t receive much in return that lasted.

  


“Kogane, huh?” Said Lance, lying on the training deck with Keith after a particularly long sparring match. “McClain is my last name! My mom and dad combined their last names to make it, so it’s like they passed down both family legacies to me, you know? Like they were trying to tell me I could go as far as both of them combined if I gave it my all. I have a lot to live up to.”  
  
_He was a hero._  
  
“Yeah,” breathed Keith, shoulders unwinding. “Me too.”

  


“My name is Krolia Kogane.”  
  
Keith’s vision blazed red, his hands curling into fists by his sides and breaths coming in wheezing pants. His father had died a hero, saving a family with that name. Keith had fought for nineteen years to protect that name, to make it his own, to live up to it, to make his father proud about giving it to him. He was the last Kogane.  
  
“Don’t you dare,” seethed Keith, only vaguely aware of Lance’s hands settling on his shoulders, the touch cool and soft and _so loving. “Don’t you dare use my name like that!”_

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Japanese* Hai=Yes, okay, etc.
> 
> I own nothing!


	3. By Your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keith,” breathed Lance, trapped in the yellow gleam of his friend’s eyes, the fangs slipping from beneath his lips, the growl turning deep in Keith’s throat. “Keith, cariño, look at me.”

“Keith,” breathed Lance, trapped in the yellow gleam of his friend’s eyes, the fangs slipping from beneath his lips, the growl turning deep in Keith’s throat. “Keith, cariño, look at me.”  
  
Keith’s growl subsided, but his eyes stayed fixed on Krolia, who was observing the whole thing with the slightest purse to her lips. Lance ground his teeth, sliding one hand to cup Keith’s cheek and gently turning those wide, flinty eyes to meet his own cerulean blue irises. “Keith Kogane,” he said firmly, a tiny, unwavering smile on his lips. “Shut up and trust me.”  
  
Keith blinked. His fists lowered, fangs beginning to retract, and some of the yellow began to leak from his eyes. Lance slid his fingers into Keith’s hair, guiding the shorter boy’s forehead to his shoulder and turning to glare at Krolia. “A pleasure, Admiral Krolia,” he spat. “If you would be so kind as to make your way to the primary meeting room, we shall be along to join you shortly. There is a map just beyond the hangar.”  
  
“…Thank you,” replied Krolia slowly. “Is Keith okay?”  
  
“Keith is my friend,” snarled Lance. “I’ll make sure he’s okay. I’m not going to leave him alone.”  
  
Krolia flinched, eyes lingering on Keith as she slipped out of the room. Lance blew out his lingering desire to hunt that woman down, give her a scalding piece of his mind, and hurl her right back out of the Castle of Lions. Anger was not what Keith needed right now.  
  
“Keith? You with me?” Murmured Lance, carding his fingers through Keith’s mullet in long, smooth strokes. “Is our intrepid hero off in starland right now?”  
  
“I’m here,” muttered Keith, clinging to the back of Lance’s armor and relaxing his muscles one by one, just like Shiro had taught him so long ago. “…You need to get to that meeting.”  
  
Lance scoffed, massaging Keith’s scalp lightly and leaning into the hug.  
  
“Did you miss the part where I said I wasn’t going to leave you alone, Mullet?”  
  
“Allura needs you,” replied Keith.  
  
“So do you,” shot back Lance, twisting his mouth as Keith began to squirm. “Look, I’ll walk you to Shiro and Adam’s room and then I’ll go to the diplomatic meeting. How’s that sound?”  
  
“I can walk by myself,” grumbled Keith, disentangling himself from Lance and folding his arms to match his scowl.  
  
His eyes were a clear white with deep purple irises.  
  
“I know,” breathed Lance, unable to hide his relief. “I know you can. But I want to be there for you.”  
  
“You’ll leave eventually.”  
  
“If I do, I’ll always come back,” replied Lance sharply, seizing Keith’s hand and tugging him through the hangar door. “You’re part of my world, Keith. I’m not going anywhere without you.”  
  
Keith’s fingers interlaced with his own and Lance slowed his stride to match his partner’s. Lance had always been the observant one. He watched Keith practice every new technique with his left hand before learning with his right hand and knew that, even though Keith trained with both hands like he was ambidextrous, he was actually left-handed. He had just trained his right hand to its current precision. Lance watched Keith blow out his breath by keeping the corners of his lips firm for the air to escape only in the middle, and he knew that Keith had played the flute at one point. It had been a long time ago though. But even with all that, Lance had never noticed how silently both he and Keith had come to move. He guessed a decaphoeb of sneaking through Galra bases tended to do that to you. He also hadn’t noticed that they synced their breathing to one another’s automatically.  
  
Now, with silence covering the halls, it was all he could notice.  
  
“Lance?” Keith’s voice was small, tapping hesitantly at the air like it could get shot down at any second.  
  
“What’s up, Samurai?” Asked Lance, turning to look over his shoulder as they passed Pidge’s bedroom.  
  
Keith’s free hand came up to cover Lance’s fingers, and he fixed his wavering purple eyes on his partner’s. His touch was fairy light, scared of holding on, and his chest hitched on his breath like he barely dared to stir. Lance tightened his grip. “Keith?”  
  
“……This scares me.”  
  
Lance’s breath hitched, his spine straightening and fingers turning soft around Keith’s again.  
  
“Which part?” He whispered, the weight of Keith’s trust pushing against his shoulders.  
  
He had known Keith since he was twelve, even if Keith didn’t remember him. Lance had seen Keith fight to find Shiro when he vanished, he had watched Keith drive off a cliff with a grin, he had fought an intergalactic war against a 10,000-decaphoeb-old empire with the older boy for over a year now. Keith had never once said that he was afraid.  
  
Keith took a step closer, barely an inch from Lance now even as his eyes swam with the light of the castle. Lance didn’t think Keith had ever looked braver.  
  
“All of it,” murmured Keith. “Hearing her say she never loved me. Or my dad. Learning that she had a good reason and not being able to be mad anymore. Knowing I messed up somehow. I just…I don’t want her story.”  
  
Lance closed the last of the distance between them, pressing his forehead to Keith’s and putting all his faith and admiration into his eyes for Keith to see. He needed Keith to believe him now.  
  
“You don’t have to do anything,” said Lance, the slightest heat bleeding into his tone. “You don’t have to forgive her. Where I was raised, family comes first, so maybe I’m a little biased, but you don’t have to accept her choice to leave you.”  
  
The sharp scent of his father’s hospital room struck his nose, and Lance swallowed roughly. “This is part of what made you who you are. No matter what, you deserve to know your history. And you already have a family. We love you, Keith. We’ll be here every step of the way, got it?”  
  
The light in Keith’s eyes rippled, pooling at the base of his irises, but he never looked away from Lance even as his breathing began to hitch. Lance cupped his cheek, swiping away the first tear and stroking his thumb over Keith’s pale skin, the fire never leaving his voice. “Got it?”  
  
Keith gulped, laying one hand over Lance’s and blowing out a long, slow exhale. Tight lips around the edges, all air escaping through the center, just like usual. Lance’s smile turned bright.  
  
“Got it.”  
  
And Keith pulled away gently, knocking on Shiro and Adam’s door without trying to hide his tears, one hand still laced with Lance’s.  
  
Lance waited until the door hissed open, until Shiro and Adam’s eyes turned into identical moons, until Keith was in their arms, before he let go of the small hand intertwined with his own. Shiro glanced over Keith’s head, eyes flashing with pure murder as his little brother sobbed, and Lance raised his hands in clear surrender.  
  
“Lance,” growled Adam, one hand pressed against the back of Keith’s head, “_what happened?_”  
  
“Keith?” Asked Lance softly, eyes still fixed on his partner. “You want me to tell them?”  
  
Keith’s shoulders hitched and he jerked his head to the side once. Lance just shook his head at the question still burning in Shiro and Adam’s eyes, squared his shoulders, and stepped back. The door slid shut, muffling Keith’s sobs.  
  
Lance’s heart twisted in his chest, his breath coming in short bursts, and his hands curling into fists to stop from trembling right out of his suit. A suit whose colors matched Keith’s. Lance dropped his head back over his shoulders, counting the tiles on the ceiling as he lengthened his breathing. He couldn’t afford to fall apart right now. Keith needed him to be a good Black Paladin, to set his all-consuming rage and heartbreak and love for the boy beyond that door aside and make this alliance happen. He couldn’t give Keith more work than he already had.  
  
“Okay,” huffed Lance, wrenching himself back to a proper posture and plastering a smile across his face.  
  
He raced down the hall towards the meeting room, yanked Pidge’s communicator from his belt and jabbing the icon flashing with Hunk’s face. The ringing sound Pidge had carefully engineered to be as obnoxious as robotically possible filled the hallway, but Lance could barely hear it over the slamming of his heart right then. He had to get to that room. He had to handle this as fast as possible and get back to Keith. He had promised he would come back.  
  
“Lance?” Called Hunk, jerking the boy in question from his thoughts. “What’s up, buddy?”  
  
“Hunk, my man!” Cheered Lance, pressing the communicator a little closer to his ear. “Hey, so Keith called for a movie night tonight in Adashi’s room, could you make plenty of snacks and report over there in about a varga?”  
  
“Yikes, Keith asked for one?” Winced Hunk. “This whole alliance thing must be super stressful. Don’t worry, I’ll have only the best snacks!”  
  
“Thanks, Hunky! You know how to win anyone’s heart!”  
  
“You just keep me around so I can feed you,” teased Hunk, the old joke settling like a balm over Lance’s silent panic. “I’ll make some of Keith’s favorites. You holding up okay?”  
  
Lance laughed, twisting down a hallway just in time to avoid smashing his shoulder against the opposite wall.  
  
“I’m doing peachy over here, these meetings are nothing new for me!” He pointed out. “I’ve got to go now, you know these things never start till the Loverboy’s there!”  
  
“Suuure,” drawled Hunk; then his voice came back brighter. “But seriously, go do your thing, buddy! See you in a varga!”  
  
“Yep,” gulped Lance. “See you in a varga!”  
  
_Maybe I don’t have a thing._ Lance wished he could time travel this conversation back to that lonely monologue in the enemy’s corridor. He couldn’t believe how far he had come.  
  
The green button flashed on his communicator, indicating that Pidge was trying to call him. Convenient.  
  
“Yo, Pidgeotto! What’s up?”  
  
“You were on speaker in the mech room,” replied Pidge, the grind of gears tearing at Lance’s brain in the background. “I’ll bring the movie selection and set everything up. Anything else?”  
  
“I don’t know, drinks?” Suggested Lance with a shrug. “Honestly, just bring your tech support brain for when that projecting excuse for a TV decides to wig out.”  
  
“Sounds like a deal,” grumbled Pidge. “‘Kay, I’ve got to keep this thing from exploding. Bye, Lance.”  
  
Lance groaned; why was she experimenting with potential explosives while they were hosting a diplomatic lunch?  
  
“Wait, Pidgey. Pass me to Mattastic before you go and, uh, don’t die?”  
  
Pidge snorted, but Matt’s voice trickled through the communicator a tick later.  
  
“Yo, Lancey Lance!”  
  
“Fancy finding you, Mattastic!” Chirped Lance, the musical voice of his friend brushing off the wave of anxiety bearing down on him.  
  
Matt had been vital for helping Allura after the clone fiasco while Lance was guiding Keith and the coalition through the transition. He had always been there to greet Allura and Lance with dinner when their diplomatic missions ran late (every night), and was the only one other than Lance who could force Pidge to bed after another long workday. If there was anybody Lance wanted on his side right now, it was Matthew Holt.  
  
“Hey, Matt, could you bring your charming personality to this party along with blankets and pillows? I’m sure we could all use a bit of brightness; you up for finding some red ones?”  
  
“Roger that!” Replied Matt cheerily, as if he hadn’t heard Lance’s hidden message loud and clear. “I’ll bring the stupidly fluffy ones!”  
  
“I’m counting on it! ‘Kay, gotta go, make sure those two don’t blow up the mech room!”  
  
“No promises, buddy.”  
  
Lance gave a bark of laughter and clicked off the communicator just as he skidded up to the meeting room. He jammed the device back into his belt and, before he could revisit any of what had happened in the last ten dobashes, shoved the door open and stepped inside.  
  
“Sorry I’m late,” chirped Lance, keeping his eyes fixed on the blushing messes that were Allura and Acxa instead of the woman who had abandoned Keith both to the world and to the lie that he was somehow unworthy and broken. “Let’s get started!”

  


Keith wasn’t sure when he had become a blanket burrito. First, it was just him sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, but now he was so fully surrounded by fluffy yellow blankets that any and all movement was impossible. He was definitely not complaining. Shiro and Adam were curled around him like a pair of protective lions, Shiro singing a lullaby quietly enough that his voice didn’t sound like a dying bullfrog’s, and Adam combing his fingers through Keith’s tangles. The last of the adrenaline and tears had faded about twenty dobashes ago, leaving him drained and vaguely empty. He was so tired, and he hadn’t even explained what had happened to Shiro or Adam.  
  
“You want to talk about it?” Murmured Adam, strokes rhythmic and smooth through his hair. “Or do you want us to find some sort of movie and just drown out the world?”  
  
Keith sighed and nestled further into his blankets, allowing his eyes to drift closed and a slight smile to tug at his lips.  
  
“Drown out the world.”  
  
The words had barely left his lips before a knock sounded at his door. Keith raised a slow eyebrow.  
  
“Apparently,” managed Shiro between chuckles, “the world has something to say about that.”  
  
Keith grumbled a few Japanese curses under his breath before elbowing a still-laughing Shiro and raising his voice.  
  
“Come in.”  
  
“Keith, hey!” Chirped Hunk as he danced in, a wide tray covered in familiar snacks balanced carefully in his hands and a wide grin splitting his cheeks. “Pidge’ll be here in a sec, she’s got the movie stuff, and Matt’s bringing the sleepover gear!”  
  
Keith blinked, mouth curving into a silent gape at the taller boy as he puttered around the room, setting up for the film already.  
  
“How?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
Hunk glanced over his shoulder and took in the three stunned expressions staring at him, tilting his head in response. “Lance called a varga ago and said you wanted to do a movie night? I mean, his meeting’s running long and all that, so I’m not sure when he’s going to make it, but he gave us a heads-up so we could prep stuff!”  
  
Hunk was met with a blank stare, and his entire face turned pale. “Should we not have? Wait, did you change your mind but Lance didn’t know because he was handling alliance stuff?! And now we’re interrupting bonding time?! Oh boy, I’ll call Pidge right away, I am so sorry about tha—”  
  
“No,” breathed Keith weakly. “No. This is great, Hunk. Thanks.”  
  
“Whooooooooo called for cheesy rom-coms?” Crowed Pidge, launching herself through the door without bothering to knock as Matt stumbled his way in after her.  
  
“I have enough blankets to cover this entire room twice-over!” He cheered, throwing a red one over Keith’s head with a wink. “Specially ordered from a secret admirer~”  
  
“Shut it, Holt,” shot back Keith with a grin as Adam tucked the blanket around his shoulders like a cape. “Thanks, Adam.”  
  
“No problem, Keith.”  
  
“Rude!” Exclaimed Matt, but he was smiling ear-to-ear as he twirled around the room distributing blankets, so Keith wasn’t all that worried.  
  
“Keith, your turn to pick!” Declared Pidge, pushing the crate of movies towards Keith with that bouncy smile that only appeared after she had made psycho progress on her machinery. “And I swear, if you try to pick _Hunger Games_ one more time—!”  
  
“_Princess Bride_,” decided Keith before he could second-guess himself. “I…think we should watch _The Princess Bride_.”  
  
“Oooooh, nice pick, Keith!” Whooped Hunk. “That one’s a classic in the Garrett household; totally an all-time favorite!”  
  
“Never seen it, but it sounds sappy, so I’m down for mocking it,” replied Pidge with a shrug as she began attacking the television to try and make it function. “Hunk, save a space tempura for me!”  
  
“I’ll try, but I’m not fighting Keith over your snack,” said Hunk, eyeing Blanket Burrito Keith warily.  
  
Keith just grinned.  
  
He had spent years watching movies alone on the couch; even if his father was home, he rarely had time to do something like that with Keith. Then he had never gotten along well enough with his foster families to pull something like that. Shiro and Adam had squished him between them, thrown popcorn and candy at him whenever they had to rewind, encouraged his cheering when the villains got defeated, and offered him a chance at a real movie night. At a real family activity.  
  
And now, he was a red blanket burrito between the two men who had practically raised him, watching a romantic comedy in space with his little sister smacking the projector until the opening sequence played, his brother distributing snacks and hushing anyone who dared talk over the movie, and his space cousin sprawling beside him with a fond smile. When had his family gotten this large?  
  
“You good, Keith?” Murmured Matt, words hidden from the others by the adorable dialogue.  
  
Keith blew out a long breath, the last of the tension finally draining from his shoulders, and he snuggled into the bed as the movie couple kissed.  
  
“You know,” he murmured. “I think I am.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cariño=Sweetheart.
> 
> I own nothing!


	4. Altean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Speaking of hidden realms,” she said slowly. “There is a woman waiting aboard my ship who would have a word with you, Princess Allura. Would you be willing to meet with her?”

“So, a combined fleet is preparing to attack Voltron in order to secure their holdings and try to defeat Emperor Lotor?” Summarized Lance, pressing a finger against the glowing hologram of their surroundings and pursing his lips. “Warlord Trugg and…uh…Landuck, right?”  
  
“Ladnok,” corrected Acxa, who had proved herself to be very capable when not bewitched by Allura in her sunset paladin armor. “They recently formed an alliance in order to overthrow Emperor Lotor. They are two of the last five rebel leaders left, and we are still trying to procure specific coordinates on the other three. I believe their fleet shall number roughly fifty battleships and over five hundred small fighters.”  
  
“Is the Blade of Marmora prepared to assist us with this current situation?” Asked Allura, twisting to scrutinize Krolia. “I believe an advance strike to limit their numbers would be extremely beneficial in the ensuing battle.”  
  
“We shall provide whatever resources are at our disposal,” guaranteed Krolia. “I will contact Kolivan; I am sure he will assign the best troops for this mission.”  
  
“Thank you,” replied Lance. “General Acxa, will you be able to provide ground support and fighters?”  
  
“Without a doubt,” promised Acxa. “I am sure General Ezor, Narti, and Zethrid’s fleets will join us shortly. The strike will likely happen in the next phoeb, but we don’t have any guaranteed date.”  
  
“That would be impossible,” reassured Allura warmly. “Your warning is most gratefully received, General.”  
  
“It was entirely my pleasure to deliver it, Princess,” squeaked Acxa, her cheeks blazing a beautiful silver, and Lance began to think that teaching Allura proper flirting would melt the general’s brain.  
  
“We have Blade spies within both of those fleets,” added Krolia, nimble fingers flitting across the hologram and leaving red dots in their wake. “They are some of our best. I will contact them and ask for a report as soon as possible.”  
  
“Thank you, Admiral Krolia,” said Allura. “I believe that, under the current circumstances, it would be advisable for the Blade and the Empire to remain close to the Castle of Lions. We may find ourselves in a situation that calls for tick-by-tick updates, and I would rather these rebels not catch us unaware.”  
  
“Allura’s right,” added Lance. “The next phoeb is a pretty wide time frame and, knowing these guys, they won’t attack at the tail-end of that. We need to be ready at all times.”  
  
“I have no objections,” replied Acxa. “However, I brought only a small vessel with me. It would not sustain orbiting the Castle of Lions for more than a few quintants.”  
  
“Well, uh, then,” stuttered Allura, “you may remain a-aboard the Castle if you so please?”  
  
Acxa flushed hot silver, and Allura’s marks began to glow a tulip pink, but Lance’s eyes cut past them both to Krolia.  
  
“And you, Admiral Krolia?” He asked. “Is your ship fit for orbiting?”  
  
Krolia met his gaze with sharp purple eyes matching her son’s, but the faint yellow tinting her sclera could only remind Lance of Keith’s enraged grief that morning. His nails cut into the gloves protecting his hands and he felt his smile strain.  
  
“It is,” replied Krolia. “I have no objections to this arrangement. It would make the transfer of information much smoother.”  
  
“Absolutely,” agreed Lance, swallowing the ice burning at the back of his throat and smiling brightly. “This will be a joint counter-strike, after all. We will want to prepare basic strategies as soon as possible; we can refine them once we begin to get accurate numbers.”  
  
“Splendid!” Decided Allura, clapping her hands and taking command of the table in an instant. “Then that is decided. Admiral Krolia, call us when you wish to dock and depart; we shall be sure the door is opened. If you ever wish to alter your current accommodations, we are certainly equipped to host you. General Acxa, there are an abundance of empty rooms aboard the Castle of Lions; you may choose whichever you so please. Are there any other points of discussion that we should cover in this meeting?”  
  
“Yes,” said Acxa quickly. “Princess Allura, there is one. Have you ever heard of Oriande?”  
  
Allura flushed, fiddling with her long white locks, and Lance made a mental note to experiment with different hairstyles on the princess; she looked majestic with a braid crown.  
“As a fairy tale, certainly,” Allura murmured. “Why do you inquire?”  
  
“Emperor Lotor has found a way to access Oriande,” replied Acxa, patting her own hair furtively. “H-he recently uncovered a stone with ancient carvings that match several that he has linked to Oriande over the decaphoebs. It appears to be the birthplace of Altean alchemy.”  
  
Acxa tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, the tip of which glowed a white-hot silver, and glanced at Allura shyly. “A princess such as yourself may be able to access the secrets to this alchemy. If you can do so, it might allow us to fight Haggar on even terms when the time arises. Emperor Lotor wished to inform you early so you could make your decision with ample time.”  
  
Allura barely had time to blush before Krolia was leaning forwards, brows furrowing and mouth drawn in a tight line. Lance’s fingers twitched.  
  
“Speaking of hidden realms,” she said slowly. “There is a woman waiting aboard my ship who would have a word with you, Princess Allura. Would you be willing to meet with her?”  
  
Allura’s eyes flitted to Lance, eyebrow quirking at such a microscopic degree that only someone who knew what they were looking for would notice. Someone like Lance.  
  
_Is there anything I’m missing here?_  
  
Lance just turned the corner of his mouth up a tiny bit more, indicating that he thought this was safe, and Allura gave her acquiescence.  
  
“Thank you,” said Krolia, swinging her legs around the seat of the chair and standing in one smooth movement as Allura and Acxa went back to making heart eyes at one another.  
  
Lance folded his lips over one another, slowly unclenching one of his fists and praying that his nails hadn’t torn straight through the suit; this fabric wasn’t his favorite to stitch back together.  
  
“Romelle!” Exclaimed Krolia from the doorway. “I told you to wait inside the ship!”  
  
“I wanted to explore!” Chirped a small voice like birds on a summer day. “Did you need something, Admiral?”  
  
Krolia sighed, her entire shoulders heaving at the movement, and Lance nearly laughed as he remembered Keith face-palming after he made that exact sound at one of the team’s antics. He wondered if Krolia was doing that internally right now.  
  
“Princess Allura,” called Krolia, stepping aside and letting the woman dance into the meeting room. “Please meet Romelle.”  
  
Allura sat frozen though, mouth just slightly agape as she stared at Romelle like she was a mystical ghost come to haunt the Castle. Lance, on the other hand, leapt out of his chair, the heavy metal clattering to the ground behind him as he gawked at the Altean skittering around the room like she hadn’t just blown two brains.  
  
“How—?!”  
  
“How did you find her?” Snapped Acxa, jerking to her feet and glaring at Krolia like an incensed tiger. “Emperor Lotor was trying to maintain the Altean colony’s secrecy until the war was over! If Haggar or Zarkon found out about them—!”  
  
“You have no right to conceal this from Voltron or from the Blades! If you wanted to keep us from finding them, you should have told us directly not to investigate the Quantum Abyss!”  
  
“That’s like throwing up a sign with flashing lights shrieking _look here for secrets—!_”  
  
“_Wait!_” Cried Allura, her voice echoing off the walls and finally halting Romelle’s ecstatic dance. “Wait. Slow down. Explain exactly what is happening here. I am afraid this seems rather…fantastical to me at the moment.”  
  
“Oh! I can do that!” Squealed Romelle, still popping around the room like a child on Nochebuena. “Lord Lotor established a colony within the Quantum Abyss decaphoebs ago! He had been exiled for treating one of his planets kindly, and he found as many survivors of the original genocide as he could. Then he hid them away within the Quantum Abyss to protect them and maintain the Altean culture! He has never allowed any of us to leave the colony because it is not guaranteed to be safe, and he ships us quintessence he stole from the Galra Empire to sustain our society! He is our guardian!”  
  
Acxa sank back into her chair with a moan, one hand massaging her forehead and the other trapping the tablecloth in a death grip.  
  
“Lo—Emperor Lotor wanted to maintain complete secrecy,” she bemoaned. “They would be perfect targets for Haggar or Zarkon, so he only told me out of even his closest generals. And that was mainly because he needed an accomplice in stealing quintessence and directing it into the Quantum Abyss. We were nearly caught by guards so many times.”  
  
Allura’s eyes had never once left Romelle’s face since she twirled into the room, her fingers limp against the table like they weren’t sure how to react to anything anymore. Lance gulped.  
  
“He didn’t tell me that my people weren’t destroyed?” She murmured. “That Coran and I were not the last Alteans? That we had others like us still alive?”  
  
Acxa winced, dropping one of her hands to cover the other as if trying to hide the continued death grip she had on the tablecloth.  
  
“He didn’t want to risk Haggar’s spies overhearing, killing the colony, and then forcing you to grieve for the loss of your civilization all over again. Believe me, it was not an easy decision for him to make.”  
  
Lance chewed on his bottom lip, unable to deny the validity of the decision, and Allura seemed too bewitched by Romelle’s very existence to argue right then. She crossed the room like she was walking on clouds, her hands reaching up to cup Romelle’s face as if scared she would vanish in a puff of fairy dust. Her thumbs brushed Romelle’s light blue Altean markings.  
  
“Xo Altea,” Allura breathed reverently, “fxd bvyu.”  
  
Allura pulled Romelle in for a hug to hide the tears glittering down her cheeks, Acxa smiled fondly, Krolia’s shoulders relaxed, and Lance let out a shriek.  
  
“I’m going to get Coran!”  
  
He barreled out of the meeting room, barely glancing at Krolia as he passed, and shot towards the bridge like his life depended on it. He had watched Coran grieve the passing of the Altean culture for as long as he had known him, and it felt like a bullet to Lance’s heart every time Coran’s eyes grew misty when looking over a book, walking down the Castle hallways, or occasionally when speaking Altean to Allura or Lance. Coran had supported the paladins since day one. He had tried to cook for them, give them breaks from Allura’s harsh regiment, and open the Castle of Lions up to them as a second home. Coran was Lance’s favorite space uncle.  
  
“Coran!” Cried Lance, skidding onto the bridge and making the older man leap backwards into a weird fighting stance with something between a screech and a hiss.  
  
Lance barely managed a chuckle between his gasping breaths, his eyes alight with both joy and tears. Coran blinked in confusion.  
  
“Lance, my boy, whatever has happened?”  
  
“Go to the meeting hall!”  
  
Lance knew it wasn’t his place to tell Coran what had happened, but that didn’t mean he was going to waste any of the Altean’s time. “Allura has something she needs to show you right now!”  
  
“I am on my way!” Declared Coran, not bothering to question it any further. “Please let the princess know I’ll be there shortly!”  
  
“Will do!” Promised Lance, practically shoving Coran from the room. “Go, go, go!”  
  
Coran whipped down the hallway towards the main room, and the paladin nearly fell over from the force of his heaving breaths. Lance seized his knees, shoulders rolling, and chest spiking with pain as he tried futilely to draw enough air into his lungs. Full-on sprinting from one end of the Castle of Lions straight to the other was about as draining as any of Allura’s cardiac exercises magnified by ten. Okay, he was definitely not going to tell Allura that; it was basically a guarantee that she would implement it into their training regiment.  
  
Lance huffed out a chuckle, swaying as he stood up again and wobbled his way to the door. Then he sent a quick message to Hunk to start the movie without him and Allura; this meeting was definitely going to run late.  
  
He broke out into a run, ignoring the wheezing protest of his lungs, and reaching the meeting hall again just in time to hear Coran let out a shriek of something between complete disbelief and unspeakable joy. Lance didn’t think he’d ever heard anything more beautiful. By the time he stepped back inside, Coran had trapped Romelle in a hug and was twirling her around the room, leaving streaming trails of tears in their wake. Romelle was squirming, but mostly indulging the starstruck Altean, and Allura was wiping flurries of her own tears a few steps away.  
  
Lance slipped over to her, tilting his head to the side and letting a genuine smile settle over his lips for the first time since the meeting had started. He tapped her limp knuckles with his own.  
  
“I’m glad for you,” he murmured in Altean. “You finally have Altea back.”  
  
Allura swiped away the last of her tears and turned a smile glistening with light on him as she took his hand.  
  
“Thank you, Lance,” she breathed. “Thank you so much.”  
  
Lance shrugged, an easy grin overtaking his lips.  
  
“Aw, it’s no big de—”  
  
“No, Lance,” interrupted Allura, squeezing his hand until he locked eyes with her again. “It was everything. It is everything. To me and to Coran. You let us bring Altea to this ship. You are part of our Altean culture now, and that will never change. You are my family.”  
  
Lance flushed, lacing his fingers with Allura and squeezing gently.  
  
“Thank you,” he whispered, a smile growing on his lips. “You’re always going to be our family too. Now shoo, go be with your people!”  
  
Allura’s cheeks practically glowed with excitement at that, and she dashed across the floor to Romelle and Coran. Coran had just set Romelle down, and the two were beginning to have an actual conversation when Allura tackled both in a flying hug. Lance nearly screeched with laughter as Romelle squawked over being trapped in another hug and Coran almost started bawling again.  
  
“Good for you, Allura!” He cheered quietly.  
  
How could Allura deserve anything but happiness?

  


“That meeting ran remarkably late,” exclaimed Allura, gazing at the clock on the wall with wide, shining crystalline eyes.  
  
Lance just laughed, slinging an arm over her shoulder as the two continued their trek down the hall. Allura, Romelle, and Coran had chattered about the Altean colony for over four vargas with Acxa throwing in whatever knowledge she had acquired from helping Lotor form it. Lance had listened a little, but had mainly ended up planning the next few days with Krolia and Acxa as they tried to prepare for the strike. He wasn’t going to finalize anything without Allura’s approval, but he laid out tentative outlines for what they could hope to accomplish over the next three quintants. The last thing any of them needed was trying to organize what needed to be done every morning when they would probably have been up past three the night before. Lance knew how these things rolled; none of them were going to be getting much sleep until this was over.  
  
“Aw, come on, that was inevitable!” He pointed out with a laugh, the Altean as natural to him as breathing by now. “Today’s been full of surprises!”  
  
“Indeed,” sighed Allura, her expression turning blissful and a slight sheen overtaking her eyes. “I can hardly believe any of it.”  
  
“Definitely going to take some getting used to,” agreed Lance. “But hey, it’s a nice change!”  
  
“I could not imagine anything better,” murmured Allura, her eyelids beginning to droop now that the excitement was wearing off.  
  
She slung an arm over Lance’s shoulder, and glanced to the side as her markings began to glow again. “Did Acxa…say anything about me?”  
  
Lance completely failed to hide his flurry of laughter in response to that, prompting Allura to flail at his arm in wild embarrassment. This did nothing to halt Lance’s giggle storm, and the vicious cycle continued for at least two dobashes until Lance had to stop and actually breathe.  
  
“Dios mios!” He managed. “And you teased me about Keith! ‘Lura, she was blushing every time she looked at you! You completely stole her heart!”  
  
“Really?” Asked Allura, fidgeting with her hair as her marks began to glow even brighter. “She seemed more comfortable talking to you, Lan…”  
  
“Yeah, because she got tongue-tied every time you so much as looked at her!” Retorted Lance, poking at her cheek and laughing as she swatted him away. “Believe me, she likes you! You should totally go for it!”  
  
Allura twirled her thick white hair as a moony smile spread over her face, and Lance just chuckled to himself and continued down the hall. He really wanted to check on Keith (who was probably still in Adam and Shiro’s room if he was being honest), but it was already 1:00 castle time, and Black was probably going to roust them in an hour for mind-melding stuff anyway. He would check in then; the last thing Keith needed right now was to be woken up.  
  
“‘Kay, goodnight, ‘Lura!” He said, his yawn nearly distorting the words beyond comprehension, but Allura just smiled.  
  
“Of course. Goodnight, Lan. I hope you have sweet dreams.”  
  
“Right back at—”  
  
“LANCE!” Screeched a terrifyingly familiar voice, and a small bundle of death slammed into him from behind. “There you are! We’ve been waiting for hours! Allura, you’re late too! Come on, come on!”  
  
“Pidge!” Cried Lance as the shorter girl nearly yanked his arm from his socket, barreling down the hall with him and Allura in tow. “What is going on?! Why are you awake? I swear, if I have to punt you to bed again—!”  
  
“We’ve been waiting for you!” Replied Pidge. “I mean, we watched a bunch of movies while waiting, but Keith refused to go to bed until you showed up! Come on! I don’t think we started on _You Scaultrite Tyble_ yet!”  
  
“Okay, number one: your accent is an atrocity. Number two: I told you guys the meeting was going to run long, you should have gone to sleep!” Whined Lance as Pidge jerked them to a stop in front of Adashi’s door.  
  
“Not a chance, Shetland pony!”  
  
“I am a mustang!” Insisted Lance with a faux-offended hand over the heart as the door swished open.  
  
“Oh, there they are!” Cheered Hunk. “Geez, you guys really got held up, huh? Did everything go okay?”  
  
“Better than okay,” replied Allura dreamily. “It was perfection beyond imagination.”  
  
“Uhhhhhhhh, okay?”  
  
“Allura,” huffed Lance between giggles. “You want me to explain?”  
  
“Yes, please,” she sighed, plopping down beside Matt and in front of Shiro, a smile of pure bliss spreading across her face.  
  
“Okay, will do,” promised Lance, crossing to join Blanket Burrito Keith and barely avoiding Pidge’s attempts to trip him. “But only after I get some of Hunk’s super special space snacks!”  
  
As Hunk began sending the bowl on its long journey towards him, Lance heard a grumble from the lump of red blankets beside him.  
  
“Is she still aboard?”  
  
“No,” promised Lance. “She’s orbiting the ship. We’re going to be collaborating with the Blade for about a phoeb; she’ll be on standby for that time. Go at your own speed here, Mullet.”  
  
Keith blew out a long breath, and Lance nearly giggled at the familiar gesture amongst this day of horrible and fantastic revelations. Which reminded him…  
  
“Hey, everyone! Allura and Coran aren’t the last Alteans! Lotor saved a whole colony of others, but he kept them a secret so Haggar didn’t target them, and now one of them is aboard the ship! She’s named Romelle, be nice to her!”  
  
Lance relished the tick of silence that followed, munching the soft, red crumbs from Hunk’s latest experiment before the room exploded in a euphony of bewildered chatter and ecstatic cheers. Matt was hugging Allura and whooping, Pidge was hypothesizing ways to cloak their fundamental Altean essence so more could come out of hiding, Shiro was resting a proud hand on Allura’s shoulder, and Adam was shouting his congratulations to be heard over the others. Hunk was all-out cheering, Coran (having just entered to ask Shiro about the sudden disappearance of his collection of Earth films) had quickly figured out what was happening and was sing-shouting an Altean victory song, and Keith managed to find Allura’s hand and whisper shining, heartfelt congratulations to his friend. Lance just smiled and intertwined his fingers with Keith’s.  
  
“Thank you, all,” said Allura, her clear ringing voice cutting through the beautiful chaos overflowing from the room. “Thank you. You are the best family anyone could ever ask for. I am truly grateful to call you mine.”  
  
“Yeah,” murmured Keith, squeezing both the hands holding his. “You can say that again.”  
  
“Space family!” Cheered Hunk.  
  
“I mean, I guess I’m stuck with you losers,” teased Pidge, but her unstoppable grin gave her away.  
  
“Oh, you seem soooooo down about it,” replied Matt, laughing as his little sister jabbed him in the ribs in retaliation.  
  
“Oh oh oh! I call Space Uncle!” Shrieked Coran fiercely.  
  
“Does that make us fathers?” Asked Shiro, turning to Adam and raising an eyebrow.  
  
“Takashi, we’ve been fathers since you brought Keith home. Now we just have more children.”  
  
“I’m _nineteen_!”  
  
“You are a tiny gay baby, hush.”  
  
Lance just threw back his head and laughed, wild and free and filled to the bursting point with love, love, love, love, so much love for everyone in that room with him. He knew it would never all come across no matter how hard he tried, but these were the best people in his life, so it was worth trying anyway.  
  
“I love all you crazy space rangers!” He crowed, and instantly got nailed in the head with a pillow. “Pidge!”  
  
“That’s enough affection out of all of you!” She shrieked. “Onto the movie!”  
  
“Awwwwww, is little Pidgey embarrassed because she’s looooooved?”  
  
“Lance, so help me, if you don’t shut the quiznak up in three ticks, I will sic my bayard on you until the cryopods won’t be able to change the fact that you’ll look like you got on the wrong side of the Olkari after Lubos turned traitor!”  
  
“Geez,” huffed Lance, whipping the pillow right back into Pidge’s face with a grin. “Dramatic much?”  
  
“What did that even mean?!” Shrieked Adam as Shiro’s giggles bent him double beside the bespectacled man.  
  
Keith rolled his eyes fondly as Shiro mustered an explanation between laughs, and rested his cheek on Lance’s shoulder with a full-body sigh.  
  
“You tired over there, Samurai?”  
  
“Hmmm, maybe,” hummed Keith, nestling in and letting the weight of the universe sink off his shoulders even for just a few vargas. “But I could do this all night.”  
  
“You really like movies, huh?”  
  
“Do not make me repeat Pidge’s threat.”  
  
“Touchy,” teased Lance, jostling Keith playfully and resting his cheek on top of Keith’s head. “Hey, you want to actually get to those dance lessons tomorrow after we finish mind-melding? We could do basic steps or just jump in or whatever you want to do during your usual Samurai hours.”  
  
Keith snickered and threw his blanket around Lance’s shoulders, trapping him in the red cocoon of warmth and comfort. And this time, when he sighed, it was pure bliss tumbling past his lips.  
  
“As you wish.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Altean* Xo Altea, fxd bvyu=Oh Altea, you live
> 
> I own nothing!


	5. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Awww, come on Samurai!” He complained, tugging at Keith’s arm with a smile way too bright for four in the morning. “You’re going to like this! Come on!”

“Keith? Keith, come on buddy, wake up,” murmured Lance, squeezing Keith’s hand rhythmically as if guiding him back from the astral plane inside their Lion’s mind. “I’ve got something I want to show you. Wakey wakey, Mullethead.”  
  
“Mmmmmrrrrrgggghhhh,” was Keith’s gallant reply, and Lance let out a chirp of laughter.  
  
“Awww, come on Samurai!” He complained, tugging at Keith’s arm with a smile way too bright for four in the morning. “You’re going to like this! Come on!”  
  
“I thought you promised dance practice,” whined Keith, sinking lower in his seat and hiding his yawn behind a fist. “You know this is when I work out.”  
  
“Yeah, I do, so come on!” Insisted Lance, standing and yanking off his long-sleeved hoodie to reveal the blue sleeveless one they had bought from the space mall almost two phoebs ago. “Don’t make me carry you to the training room! You know I’ll do it!”  
  
“Fine,” grumbled Keith, jerking up from his seat and getting promptly nailed in the face by Lance’s jacket. “Lance!”  
  
“You left yours back in Adashi’s room, and you’ve been shivering all morning,” pointed out Lance, completely unperturbed by the hellfire glare Keith was giving him. “Put that on, hurry up! I’ll race you to the training room!”  
  
“What’s the prize this time?” Muttered Keith, slipping his arms through the green sleeves and finding that they stretched beyond his fingertips to make jacket paws.  
  
He could live with that. Also, the hood was crazy soft over his ears.  
  
“What, the usual bragging rights not enough to get your blood boiling?” Teased Lance, tapping a finger against his chin in thought. “How about whoever wins gets to use the favorite shower?”  
  
The favorite shower was about five times nicer than the standard stalls; no one in the team argued with that, it was just a fact of the Castle. The favorite shower had a proper clear mat covering the bottom so no one could slip, a self-cleaning bathtub, shining white tiles on the walls that could be pushed in to hold soaps and shampoos at any height (Pidge adored it), and automatically adjusted the water temperature based on the occupant’s body heat. Not to mention, Allura had taught everyone a trick a few phoebs ago that could make the water smell like anything they wanted. Lance even managed to use it to change the color of the water once.  
  
“Go!” Shrieked Keith, scrambling out of his seat and sprinting out of the Lion like a battleship was on his heels.  
  
“Wha—hey!” Screeched Lance, careening out of Black and whipping after Keith with a wolfish grin. “That’s fighting dirty, Kogane!”  
  
“Yeah, and what are you going to do about it, McClain?” Shot back Keith, smirking over his shoulder as his boots struck the floor silently.  
  
Lance’s grin just widened and he tore down a side hallway without once breaking his stride. Keith’s eyebrow slid beneath his bangs, but he didn’t slow down. Whatever fancy route Lance was taking, Keith was still the faster sprinter between the two of them. Heck, he was the fastest runner on the team besides Allura. He had always been good at running away.  
  
The slap of his shoe against the floor, the swish of his jacket with each swing, the way the world blurred past him, stretching reality thinner and thinner and thinner until he felt like he could break through it if he just went a little faster. One step faster, two steps faster, three steps faster, just run, run, run, _run, run, run, run faster, faster, a little bit faster—_  
  
“Bet you didn’t know about that shortcut, Mullet!” Crowed Lance, pumping his arms through the air as he hurtled out in front of Keith and twirled to take off towards the training room, still whooping as he ran.  
  
Keith blinked. Lance laughed. “Hurry up, Mullethead! You’re not going to catch me like that!”  
  
Keith’s heart skipped a beat, his stride opening and breathing slowing even as he ran faster, faster, faster, faster without thinking about it. Faster towards Lance.

  


“Ok, what did you want to show me?” Grumbled Keith, folding his arms and pouting as Lance lay on his back, chest heaving and grin bedazzling his face. “How tired you are from winning?”  
  
“Pffffft! If I got tired from winning against you, I would have passed out phoebs ago,” shot back Lance, laughing as Keith rolled his eyes fondly.  
  
“Okay, smart aleck, come on,” he huffed, offering Lance a hand. “What did you want to show me?”  
  
Lance seized his hand, allowing Keith to help him to his feet, smile brighter than Altea’s sun and touch leaving Keith’s skin fizzling with warmth. His eyes were swirling galaxies of blue, catching the lights of the room as comets amidst the waves of his irises, and Keith’s breath vanished. His ears caught fire, and Keith gave in to the fact that he, the Black Paladin of Voltron, defender of the universe, intergalactic hero, would be killed by the sheer beauty of the boy in front of him one day. Galran swords had nothing on Lance’s sunshine smile.  
  
“Right!” Gulped Lance. “Okay, sit over there!”  
  
Lance shooed Keith over to the side of the room, glancing along the floor as if checking for trap doors or something. Keith arched an eyebrow, and Lance whipped his head around to pout at his partner. “I can _hear_ you internally doubting me!” He accused, wriggling out of his shoes and plopping them down beside Keith. “You’re going to like this! Trust me!”  
  
“You,” snorted Keith as he folded his legs beneath him and propped his chin up on his hand, “are the person I trust least and most aboard this ship.”  
  
Lance shoved his shoulder at that, the frantic edge to his glances vanishing, and Keith felt his smile curve into a full-on grin. “Well?”  
  
“Geez, aren’t we impatient!” Complained Lance, tapping to the middle of the room and tossing his jeans to the side, revealing a loose pair of black shorts beneath the fabric. “Ok, I kind of came up with this idea a few phoebs ago, but I only finished it in the last couple quintants. It’s kind of a…” Lance cleared his throat and glanced to the side as if that would hide his cherry blossom cheeks. “It’s a late birthday present. Audio, begin dance sequence blue!”  
  
_“Sit right here, chill level low,”_ sang out the speakers, and Keith’s heart did a full aerial in his chest because he _knew_ that song.  
  
Lance’s steps bounced across the floor, arms swinging wide as he tapped to the rhythm, humming quietly as the fear drained from his smile. Keith leaned back and just smiled.  
  
_“Close your eyes, and just let it flow._  
  
_Right next to me, I hear your heart beat beat.”_  
  
Lance’s feet leapt, switching their cross and spinning him around just in time to cut the air in half with a swinging kick, and Keith let out a little whoop without thinking about it. Lance’s eyes widened, as if he had forgotten he had an audience, and his smile went full supernova mode. Keith’s heart melted.  
  
_“When the dial turns up and the music starts playing._  
  
_We don’t realize in this society,_  
  
_Doesn’t matter how your hair looks,_  
  
_Or what they are thinking.”_  
  
Lance attacked his hair at that, and Keith threw back his head to bark out a laugh he hadn’t known he had inside. Lance kept flying across the floor, taking up as much space as he could and throwing in some moves that probably shouldn’t have been physically possible. Then he shot a wink at Keith, and the taller boy’s earlier words came rushing back. _It’s a late birthday present._  
  
Lance was the Black Paladin, one of only two diplomats for the Voltron Coalition, a key strategist, a fierce competitor in the training room, and head of the humanitarian outreach portion of the Coalition. He shouldn’t have had time for this, and he probably hadn’t, in reality. But Lance had _made_ time. He had stolen moments, Altea knows when, to slip into the training room and throw himself into back handsprings, pirouettes, flying kicks, flares, slides, and probably a hundred other moves that had never even made it into this dance routine. He had done it all just to wish Keith a happy nineteenth birthday, just to prove that someone here in space still remembered and cared. _He had made time for Keith._  
  
_“Just, just, what we are finding!” _Sang the speakers, and Lance had to bite his lip to keep from joining in.  
  
His arms stretched over his head, weaving over one another behind him as he raised his chest in an arch. _“Ignore the world, let the music cave in,_  
  
_Close your phone and breathe in the air.”_  
  
His feet closed the gap between them, and his breathing slowed as if stilling the room around him. _“You’ll soon realize that there’s something that is—”_  
  
That smile turned into the sun as the music and his motion exploded at once. _“So much more than this!”_  
  
One foot slipped around the other, crossing halfway across the room as the other popped up behind him in a cross step, a move he bounced in the other direction in time with the music as his arms spread like wings around him. _“It is what it is! So much more than this!”_  
  
His leg flew up then, toes tapping the inside of his thigh as his fingertips came to rest against one another in a half-circle, twirling with his eyes lightly closed. _“So much more than this!”_  
  
Lance bit his lip to hide a cheer as he landed fluidly, dropping to one hand as his legs shot out to balance on the sides of his feet for barely half a tick before leaping the other way. Keith just cheered. _“It is what it is! So much more than this!”_  
  
Lance crossed his feet and spun until he was standing upright again, launching himself over backwards in a flip that landed like a feather against grass, snapping his fingers in midair like he was just sliding across the floor instead of doing acrobatics. Keith smirked, transferring his chin to the other hand and rolling his eyes fondly. Classic Lance.  
  
Lance’s feet landed in a wide side stance, swishing one arm from the back leg to the front. He launched his fully extended leg to tap against his hand, lips pursed. Keith chuckled, then nearly shot out of his seat as Lance pivoted his entire body on one foot, swinging the same kick up on the other side and knocking his palm without bothering to set his foot down. Lance shot him a wink and a finger gun at the hitching gasp that escaped Keith’s throat, and Keith barely resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. His entire face must be lava red by this point!  
  
Lance moonwalked his way across the floor with a laugh, grabbing Keith’s hands and yanking him to his feet.  
  
“Lance, what are you—”  
  
“Shut up and trust me,” teased Lance, wrapping an arm around Keith’s hip as the two circled each other, so close their noses must have been brushing. “Lean back.”  
  
The chorus lit up the room for the final time and Lance snatched one of Keith’s hands just as the shorter teen leaned back. Then he slung his own weight backwards, the two balancing one another as they spun, the singing overshadowed by shrieks of laughter as they tried to keep from falling. Keith reached out and Lance caught his free hand, the wind shoving all the hair from their faces as they twirled around the room like maniacs waiting to fall.  
  
But they never fell.  
  
_“So much more than this!” _The two managed to giggle out, reeling the spinning ellipse of inevitable death in and pressing their foreheads together.  
  
The song tapered off, but Keith and Lance just stood in the middle of the room, the occasional laugh filtering out from their breathless finale. Their hands remained intertwined.  
  
“So, good birthday present?” Huffed out Lance.  
  
Keith didn’t know how he had the energy to laugh anymore, but Lance always seemed to make him do the impossible, quivering with giggles as he trapped his partner in a hug.  
  
“The best,” he promised.

__  


“Krolia?” Called Adam, blocking the emissary as she disembarked from her ship for the first full strategy session, his lips twisted into a grimace. “We need to talk.”  
  
Krolia arched an eyebrow in response to that.  
  
“If this is about painting my ship any other neon colors—”  
  
“No,” cut in Shiro, crossing from where he had been leaning against the hangar doors. “This is about Keith.”  
  
Krolia’s fingers stiffened against her shoulder and her eyes sharpened to something just shy of a glare. Shiro interlaced his fingers with Adam and drew his shoulders tighter as Adam raised his chin. “Adam and I have raised Keith since he was thirteen; we’re the closest thing Keith has to a family.”  
  
“That includes you,” growled Adam, the echoes of Keith’s cries from last night fresh in his ears. “Keith is the toughest kid I’ve ever met. He’s been shown his whole life that he’s not worth anyone staying, but he still loves. He still gives his all to this world that’s given him a heck of a lot of pain for no reason!”  
  
Shiro’s teeth ground against one another, the image of Keith hunched over in the juvenile detention center, beaten to an inch of his life inside, bouncing behind his eyes. But that child had grabbed hold of the simulator’s stick and flown like his life depended on it. He had clasped Shiro’s hand, taught himself Japanese to better reach out to Mrs. Shirogane, and memorized Adam’s coffee order. He had squeezed himself onto that tiny couch between the couple for movie nights, he had gone over math with Adam and flight practicals with Shiro until he fell asleep at the table, and he had jumped for the stars the moment Voltron called. Keith didn’t just roll with the punches, he learned each move and struck back. Because he had to in order to survive.  
  
“Keith’s dad died when he was nine,” said Shiro, steamrolling Krolia’s broken, hitching breath. “He was left alone. Abandoned. Shunted through fake families who threw him out the moment they could.”  
  
Shiro’s grip tightened around Adam’s hand until both of them were shaking, but Adam made no complaint. His teeth were too tightly gritted to speak right then. Shiro took a deep breath. “Keith’s finally made a home—a family—here with Voltron. He’s finally starting to believe he’s worthy of love. So whatever reason you had for leaving him, whatever twisted excuse made that acceptable in your head, if it in any way hurts Keith or makes him feel like he’s not good enough—”  
  
Shiro raised scalding eyes to meet Krolia’s, his voice low with a volcanic determination and unspeakable love. “—Then there are nine intergalactic warriors aboard this Castle who will not hesitate to hunt you to the ends of the universe for hurting their family. So tread lightly here. Tread kindly.”  
  
Krolia met his eyes, her own purple irises shattered after nineteen years of believing she would one day return to her love and son, crippled at the death of her mate, and she shuddered out a breath hitching with grief.  
  
“Thank you for protecting Keith,” she managed, pausing for a second to gather her breath, one hand coming up hurriedly to swipe away the beginnings of her heartbreak. “Thank you for being his family. I _will_ tread kindly here. I will not hurt him again.”  
  
Adam relaxed his death grip on Shiro’s hand and used his free hand to rifle through his jacket pocket for a few seconds before the familiar slide of plastic brushed his fingertips.  
  
“Here,” he murmured, offering the tissue packet to Krolia with a quiet sigh. “I know it’s hard to hear that the love of your life has died. And I’m sorry for it.”  
  
Shiro winced, but Krolia took one of the tissues and pressed it against the stream of tears curving down her cheek.  
  
“I am too,” she whispered. “He was a good man. A good husband. Probably a good father.”  
  
“Keith thinks the world of him,” agreed Shiro.  
  
“And of you, evidently,” replied Krolia with the ghost of a smile as she pressed the tissue to her other cheek. “He gave you his father’s clothes.”  
  
Shiro blinked, his next breath stuttering before it even reached his lungs, and Adam felt his own eyes water at the force behind those words. Krolia pressed the tissue over her mouth, stifling her sob and straightening her back. “Does Keith…did his father give him my blade?”  
  
“He did,” grumbled Shiro, barely resisting the urge to groan at the memory of how the Blade of Marmora had reacted to seeing that blade for the first time. “He’s good at using it too. Worked with the Blade of Marmora for a while.”  
  
“Pardon?” Suddenly growled Krolia, her ears swivelling backwards and fur standing on end. “The Blade did _what?_”  
  
“Uh, Keith joined? While you were on that warlord’s ship and when we were escaping,” replied Adam, raising an eyebrow with a frown. “I thought your super secret spy society would have mentioned it.”  
  
“I,” hissed Krolia, claws slicing through the tissue as she stalked back towards her ship, “will be a dobash or two late to today’s meeting. I must have words with Kolivan.”

  


“_I specifically left Earth to keep this war away from my son,_” snarled Krolia at Kolivan, who was cowering even through the screen at the force of her rage. “_You must have recognized my blade the moment he pulled it out, and you decided to send him on multiple of those near-death experiences you call field missions?_”  
  
Shiro crouched behind a nearby box, hands cupped over his mouth to keep from either sniggering or squeaking in terror, and Adam just watched with a growing smile as Krolia’s rage seemed to endlessly increase.  
  
“W-we did have him undergo the Trials, and he passed, so he had every right to be assigned missi—”  
  
“_You,_” barked Krolia, her voice shooting venomous icicles, “_you put my eighteen-year-old son through trials designed for thirty-year-old veterans? You think that excuse will somehow protect you? You dragged my son through the blackest parts of war. Nothing can protect you. Now have an excellent day._”  
  
Krolia punched the communications button, shutting off the call, and Adam barely resisted the urge to whistle. No wonder Keith had a temper. And maybe he wasn’t going to let Krolia anywhere near Keith’s heart until the paladin gave her permission, but something of the sickening hate and fury inside him dissipated a little. At least she knew that Keith was worth fighting for. But she still hadn’t known that Keith was worth staying for, and she would have to answer to Keith for that.  
  
Shiro waited until Krolia had stormed off the ship before pulling Adam out and sneaking off as well, his hand snugly ensconced in his boyfriend’s. Whatever Keith decided about Krolia, he would support him. He had been by Keith’s side for eight years now, there was no chance in heaven or hell that he would ever abandon his little brother.  
  
“Let’s go watch _Sense and Sensibility_,” he murmured. “I’ll get the green fizzy drink Hunk made.”  
  
“I’m on space snack duty then,” hummed Adam lightly.  
  
“I’ll bring blankets,” added Keith. “I’ve got plenty from that burrito you made me into.”  
  
Shiro screeched, spinning so fast he nearly tripped Adam as Keith bent double, clutching his stomach and shrieking with laughter.  
  
“Since when have you—?!”  
  
“Just joined up,” replied Keith between snickers. “I guess Lance scheduled all the diplomatic stuff for the next few quintants; I’m free until we have to talk strategy.”  
  
“Yeah, free to demonize us,” grumbled Adam as if his lips weren’t twitching towards a smile.  
  
Keith just grinned.  
  
“Actually, there’s something I wanted your help with…”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	6. Your Risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance swallowed his prepared jokes, leaning back in the chair and offering Allura his hand. She didn’t even hesitate to lace her fingers with his, blowing out a short, sharp breath. They sat in silence for a few ticks, Allura scowling at the table and Lance studying her hands. Allura’s face was a mask; she could mold it to show whatever she wanted to the world. Her hands though, squeezing his like they wanted to curl into fists, matched precisely to her breathing, were much more reliable.

Lance loved Allura. He really did, he had for phoebs and he doubted he would ever stop loving her. But, as he discreetly massaged his temples in the meeting room, Lance contemplated locking her in a room with Acxa and refusing to let either of them out until they at least learned how to function while making heart eyes at one another! Even he managed to handle his work, and Keith was very distracting!  
  
“Y-your fleet has been summoned to, uh, reinforce the Castle, I believe?” Stammered Allura, twirling the framing lock of hair Lance had left down when tying up the rest of it into a braid crown that morning.  
  
“They should arrive shortly,” promised Acxa, fiddling with her red painted nails and audibly gulping. “We, uh, that is, the other generals and I, have, um, coordinated t-to ensure the best of the fleet will arrive faster.”  
  
“So, a full ten ships?” Asked Lance, lowering his arms carefully so his gauntlets wouldn’t crash against the table. “I understand that the Empire is handling a rebellion on your Southern front, but Voltron needs to be sufficiently reinforced if we want to handle these warlords when they strike.”  
  
“Of course,” replied Acxa, turning her attention on him (Lance swore he saw Krolia sigh silently in relief) and interlacing her fingers on top of the table. “We will be able to get three ships here in the next five quintants; the generals are far faster than the rest of the fleet. The other seven should join us within the next movement.”  
  
“Thank you,” said Lance, trying to hold Acxa’s attention on him for long enough to make his next point; it was a struggle with Allura’s winter-blue eyes gazing at the general. “We need to sort out resources now. Ammunition, for one thing, is not something we should be running out of in the middle of battle.”  
  
“The Blade recently confiscated a large shipment of weapons and ammunition from Galra rebels nearby,” suggested Krolia. “I could contact the Lieutenant in charge and request that she transfers them to us?”  
  
“That would be much appreciated, Admiral,” replied Lance with a pearly smile. “General Acxa, what were your estimates on the fleet we would be facing again?”  
  
“Fifty battleships and five hundred fighter ships,” replied Acxa immediately.  
  
“So, tiny,” joked Lance, shifting through the tilting pile of papers in front of him. “Okay. Admiral, how many of these ships do you think you Blades could knock out before the attack?”  
  
Krolia’s mouth twisted, the dots indicating Blade members glowing a soft red on the hologram at the center of the table.  
  
“…Roughly five battleships,” she estimated. “Which eliminates fifty of the fighters.”  
  
“Score!” Cheered Lance, pumping his fist and drawing a giggle from Allura. “Alright, so we have forty-five battleships and four hundred fifty fighters.”  
  
Allura straightened, her finger tapping against the table and drawing the entire room’s attention even before she began speaking.  
  
“General Acxa,” she said, and Lance nearly swooned in relief when she refused to stutter. “Could you and Admiral Krolia come up with a hypothesis on the formation our enemies would choose based on the makeup of their fleet?”  
  
Acxa’s sharp smile slid back across her face, and Krolia raised her chin in answer. Lance smirked, and Allura’s smile widened. “Very well, I would like to ask you two to procure an answer to that within the next quintant. I apologize for the lack of time, but we cannot afford to be without a plan when they strike. Admiral Krolia, if you would give our Black Paladin an inventory on the resources we could expect, I am sure he will have an estimate for the distribution needed across our fleets.”  
  
Lance gave Allura a mock salute, face pinched in a faux-serious expression that even Acxa chuckled at. Well, that was a win! Allura beamed at him, that twinkle in her eyes that seemed warm to everyone else and warned him that they weren’t done yet. “I am going to trace a diplomatic route through this galaxy and see if there are any civilizations nearby who would be willing to provide aid in combat. Please report your results to me personally; I shall create a file for our operation. Admiral, General, feel free to use the Castle of Lions for your strategizing. Lance, I will require your assistance with an accounting error in the system, so please remain a moment. This meeting is dismissed, thank you for your work today.”  
  
“Thank you, Princess Allura,” replied Acxa, her cheeks a faint silver and the shyest smile slipping across her face. “I wish you luck with the error. Black Paladin, have a good day.”  
  
“Same to you!” Chirped Lance, returning Krolia’s nod and sneaking a smirk to the peony-cheeked Allura.  
  
The moment the door slid shut, Lance scooted to sit next to Allura, cocking his head as a teasing smile danced over his lips. “So, about this system error?”  
  
“Oh please,” scoffed Allura. “Coran already attended to it this morning; the files have been recovered.”  
  
“I’m surprised there was even an error!” Admitted Lance between giggles. “I thought you just came up with that on the spot!”  
  
“No,” sighed Allura. “I wish that was all though.”  
  
Lance swallowed his prepared jokes, leaning back in the chair and offering Allura his hand. She didn’t even hesitate to lace her fingers with his, blowing out a short, sharp breath. They sat in silence for a few ticks, Allura scowling at the table and Lance studying her hands. Allura’s face was a mask; she could mold it to show whatever she wanted to the world. Her hands though, squeezing his like they wanted to curl into fists, matched precisely to her breathing, were much more reliable.  
  
“‘Llura?” He whispered, squeezing her hand in return and throwing off her carefully timed rhythm. “¿Estás bien?”  
  
Allura sighed again, raising her chin and tugging on her loose wave of hair with one hand while crushing his fingers in a vice grip with the other. Lance didn’t protest.  
  
“Lance,” she sighed, jumping between Spanish and Altean as she spoke like she always did when trying to reassure both of them, “I have identified a planet that I think would be extremely helpful in this next battle. They are famed for their prowess in battle; the Galra Empire never conquered them despite several attempts. I believe they would be powerful allies to have.”  
  
Lance bit his lip, resisting the urge to draw patterns on the back of her hand like he always did with Keith. That only annoyed Allura.  
  
“Okay?”  
  
“No,” groaned Allura, tugging so harshly on her hair that Lance winced. “I am sorry. This just……” Allura huffed and dropped her hand to cover Lance’s. “Lance, this civilization has never had an ally in all of its history. There are no precedents, no diplomatic records to rely upon, no knowledge of their basic customs even. All that is known is their military might.”  
  
Lance scowled.  
  
“So they’re hard to get along with? Like, harder than that one planet who nearly dunked us both in that peachy-smelling dissolving death bath?”  
  
“Achulk? Probably,” admitted Allura, though her lips quirked up at his description. “Even they had a few allies before us. You and I have nearly died several times in tests of worth to secure these alliances; you know exactly how risky this could be.”  
  
Lance managed a chuckle, poking at Allura’s fingertip as the blood began to be cut off from his palm.  
  
“Yeah, these guys just looooove to shove potential allies offering protection for literally _nothing in return_ in tournaments and mind games and a million other wacky ways for us to ‘prove that we have what it takes to be an ally’!”  
  
Allura threw back her head, a tinkling laugh dancing past her lips at Lance’s imitation of the last leader they had managed to ally with; they had needed to kill a centuries-old robobeast prototype that specialized in poisoning its victims through mist attacks. Lance’s sniping abilities (which apparently were undeterred by low visibility) and Allura’s Altean constitution were the only reasons they made it out of there alive, but they came out with a king’s promise of troops and supplies for the Voltron Coalition. To them, that was pretty much just a normal day at this point.  
  
“How deadly must this trial be that none have passed it?” Murmured Allura, loosening her grip slightly when she noticed how snowy Lance’s hand had become. “I was never concerned about the risks before because someone had always passed, so there was no reason you and I could not. But with this…”  
  
She trailed off with a flutter of her hand, but Lance just nudged her shoulder with his own and beamed.  
  
“Good thing we’re trailblazers, then!” He cheered, standing and tugging Allura to her feet. “Voltron was the first time the Galra Empire really faced defeat. We were the first time Zarkon was pushed back, the first ones to free the Balmerans and Olkari and Puigans and actually begin to win this war!”  
  
Lance beamed, flourishing his arm towards the map of the universe draped over the Castle’s wall. A few red sparkles existed, shining out as the last Galra holdouts, while Lance’s entire face was lit up blue by the rest of the map. “Look how far we’ve come! Look at the impossible we’ve accomplished!”  
  
Allura swallowed, brushing her fingertips in a rainbow across the millions of lights, all of them planets, that had welcomed Voltron as liberators, that had pledged their allegiance, that had fought alongside all of them. It had seemed like a distant dream a little over a decaphoeb ago.  
  
“We certainly have quite the hot track record,” she finally commented, a smile tugging at her lips. “Almost as hot as you.”  
  
Lance’s eyes turned into moons, and Allura had to bite her lip to keep her giggles inside. They just ended up making her shoulders shake.  
  
“Oh my god!” Shrieked Lance, his laughter lighting up the room brighter than the entire map, and Allura couldn’t help but join in. “You just flirted with me! Allura, I’m so proud I could cry!”  
  
Lance flung his arm up for Allura to twirl beneath, and leaving a stream of laughter behind her. “Now if you could just say that to Acxa…” teased Lance with a too-wide grin, snorting as Allura nearly tripped in her spin. “Aw come on! You’d melt her with that line!”  
  
Allura just grabbed Lance’s waist and jerked him into the air, spinning around way too fast and letting the warmth of their laughter wash over her. Voltron won by taking risks no one else would take. She could only hope that would be true this time and ignore the growingly dark unease spreading through her heart. There was no reason to be scared after all, they could do anything together. Right?

  


“What am I supposed to say to her?! ‘Hi, yeah, I’m the son you abandoned nineteen years ago. Oh, what am I like? I’m you but gayer’?!” Ranted Keith, pacing the room while Shiro and Adam tried to kill one another in some sort of tablet game Pidge had chaotically made. “I don’t even know if I want to talk to her! And yeah, Lance said I get to know my history, but she hasn’t been part of my life for nineteen years! Why does she get to come back in now because she just happened to stumble upon us in space?! She didn’t even recognize me! Heck, I didn’t recognize her!”  
  
“Keith, you’re getting sidetracked,” warned Adam, tongue sticking out from between his lips as he talked. “You were trying to figure out how to handle meetings without sticking a knife in her ribcage, remember?”  
  
Adam shoved Shiro’s character off a cliff, and he set the tablet down to fully focus on Keith as his partner squawked. “Unless you want Lance to act as the sole Black Paladin in this strike, you’re going to want to come back for strategy meetings. I’m sure Lance would do that if you asked, but I don’t think that’s what you want.”  
  
“No!” Snapped Keith, fingers flexing and curling like he wanted to smash a vase. “Lance would run himself ragged. We’re a team for a reason!”  
  
“Keith,” sighed Shiro, starting up the game without telling Adam and shoving a spear into his partner’s avatar. “You’ve been shouting for half a varga, but you still haven’t said what you wanted to do. Only what you’re supposed to do or not supposed to do or what you don’t want to do.”  
  
Shiro set down his tablet and stood, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder and locking their eyes. “No matter what happens, we’re going to support and help you. So what do you want out of this?”  
  
Keith faltered, his fingers falling still, his body braced for a blow and eyes wide, prepared to bolt at any second. Shiro’s stare remained locked on him, the silence stretching from ticks into dobashes, deafening as a freight train. Keith gulped.  
  
“I—I don’t—”  
  
WHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAM!  
  
“Keith!” Called Pidge, still hammering on the door until her words were almost drowned out. “Keith, are you in there? Get out here, Hunk and Matt and I have a new game we need to show you! We’ve been refining our new monster catalogue and you have to see this Baku thing Hunk described—!”  
  
“Uh, I-I should go,” muttered Keith, pulling away as Pidge continued chattering. “I’ll think about it, though. Thanks, Shiro.”  
  
“No problem,” replied Shiro softly, watching as his little brother was swept out of the room by their vibrating green child (_tiny goblin,_ whispered Lance’s voice in his head, snickering), and likely into the arms of their yellow paladin.  
  
“He’ll be fine, Takashi,” promised Adam, not glancing up from his tablet. “It’s not just us three anymore. He’s not alone.”  
  
Shiro nodded, but didn’t move from his position, eyes still fixed on the door. A strange bell sounded from behind him, and Adam snickered. “You, on the other hand…”  
  
“Wait…” realized Shiro, stalking back to the bed and snatching his tablet as Adam began full-on cackling. “SEVENTY-TWO DEATHS?! ADAM, COME ON!”  
  
“Aaaaaaaaand that’s seventy-three.”  
  
“DANG IT!”

  


“Keith, you’re the black one! Come on, let’s go!”  
  
“Wait, why is this—CAN IT ACTUALLY EAT ME?!”  
  
“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh—”  
  
“PIDGE, YOU—!”  
  
“Dude, duck first, yell later! Come on, we’ve got to beat this thing!”  
  
“Hunk, is that you controlling this Robobeast over there?!”  
  
“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh—”  
  
“HOW DO YOU GUYS HAVE TIME FOR—RRAAH!”  
  
“Ooh! Nice swing!”

  


“General Acxa?” Called Allura, sweeping into the room with Lance a step behind her. “Emperor Lotor has called; he would like to speak with both of us and Romelle. Do you have a moment?”  
  
“O-of course,” replied Acxa, mostly managing to hide her grimace. “Admiral Krolia, I shall be back soon.”  
  
“Take your time,” reassured Krolia. “I will begin processing these files through the holomap.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Acxa strode to the door, raising her arm for Allura to rest her hand upon, and Lance had to hide a snicker as the two made their blushing way down the hall. Maybe, by the next movement, they would actually be able to be in the same room, make heart eyes at one another, and do their job all at the same time! A miracle.  
  
“Do you have business with me?” Asked Krolia, sweeping files into the holographic display and waiting for them to load into the system.  
  
Lance felt his pulse rise, thundering in his ears, and Keith’s tear-filled murmur of fear turned his blood into lava. Keith didn’t need anger right now. But he did need a friend, and Lance knew exactly what he would want his friend to do in this situation. So he squared his shoulders and crossed the room, jerking himself between Krolia and the holomap and fixing her with his freezing glare.  
  
“As a Black Paladin and diplomat, no,” he hissed. “But as Keith’s friend, you’d better believe I do.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¿Estás bien?=Are you okay?
> 
> I own nothing!


	7. Stronger Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Family comes first. I’ve been raised with that idea all my life, and it’s made me who I am. Even when my father was dying, he fought for every last second to be with us. He knew it would be hard to see him suffering, but he still stayed with us right up until the end and I’m grateful to him for that. You ran away. And I don’t understand why.”

“I have promised Adam and Shiro that I would not hurt him,” said Krolia immutably, stepping back so they weren’t nose-to-nose. “You need not worry about that.”  
  
“Great,” snarled Lance. “They shouldn’t have had to make you promise that, but that’s a start.”

  


_“Kenneth is dead?” Barely gulped out ten-year-old Lance, eyes cutting to his oldest sister, widowed barely a year after her marriage, crying quietly on her bed. “Is Veronica going to be okay?”_  
  
_“I’ll take care of Ronny,” promised his mother, crouching to look him square in the eye. “Veronica has twins coming, though. She has to go back to school in a few months, but I don’t think she can raise both of them, be a full-time student, and grieve at the same time. I’m going to have her leave the kids with us; do you think you could help me out with them every now and then?”_  
  
_Lance squared his shoulders and raised his chin. Then he pounded a fist to his chest and grinned as brightly as he knew how to._  
  
_“Leave it to me!” He declared. “You make sure Ronny’s okay; I’ll make sure her kids are!”_  
  
_His mother beamed, pressing a fluttering kiss to his forehead and ushering him down the stairs before turning back towards his sister’s bedroom._  
  
_“Thank you, my little knight.”_

  


“They have also explained what happened as a result of my choice to leave,” added Krolia, folding her arms as her eyes cut to the floor. “……I never considered that my husband would die.”  
  
Lance flinched, his mother’s shrieks ringing through his ears and slicing through the waves of pure rage flooding his mind. Krolia’s shoulders had slumped, her eyes glazed over, and Lance wondered if memories were flooding through her as well. He swallowed.

  


_“Lance, sweetie, this is your niece,” explained Lance’s mother, tucking the tiny bundle into Lance’s arms and moving one of his hands carefully. “Make sure you support her head. Here is your nephew.”_  
  
_“Why do people say babies are cute?” Asked Lance, wrinkling his nose as he raised an eyebrow. “They look like tiny tomato humans.”_  
  
_“Lance!” Admonished his mom, but Lance just giggled and sat down so he could cradle both babies at once._  
  
_“I still like them, Mom,” he promised. “I’m going to take good care of them!”_  
  
_“Yes, you will,” scolded his mom. “Be a good father to them, okay, Lance?”_  
  
_Lance laughed, the joy ringing out in the bedroom and making even Veronica smile slightly._  
  
_“I’m their uncle, Mom, not their dad! But I’ll do my best! Promise!”_

  


“Look, I’m going to be honest, I don’t understand how you could ever leave Keith,” he growled. “Family comes first. I’ve been raised with that idea all my life, and it’s made me who I am. Even when my father was dying, he fought for every last second to be with us. He knew it would be hard to see him suffering, but he still stayed with us right up until the end and I’m grateful to him for that. You ran away. And I don’t understand why.”

  


_Lance knew his mom wanted to take care of the kids more, but she was a paramedic working overtime just to scrape by, cooking for a child and two babies, and fighting to get four children through college while one of them grieved for her dead husband. Lance was just a fourth grader; he had a lot more time on his hands. Plus, he was the only one home during most nights and weekends._  
  
_“Aruru mi niño, arrurú mi amor,_  
  
_Aruru pedazo de mi corazón,_  
  
_Este niño lindo que nació de día,_  
  
_Quiere que lo lleven a la dulcería,” sang Lance, hoping vaguely that the sleep deprivation would make his voice soothing as he rocked the crying baby carefully in his arms.  
  
_ _He swayed slowly around the room, singing and dancing away from Nadia’s crib as he silently pleaded that her brother wouldn’t wake her up too. If Nadia started crying now, he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until probably five, and then he would have to wake up at six to carry them to the nearby daycare, get back home to grab his bike, and pedal an hour and half to his school. He had gotten maybe two hours of sleep last night._  
  
_Sylvio’s shrieking calmed to whimpers, and Lance cooed encouragingly at the tiny bundle of joy in his arms. He was worth all the sleep deprivation and teachers shouting at him to wake up and not be lazy; he was their family’s future. He was Lance’s little prince._  
  
_“Sweet dreams, Sylvio,” whispered Lance, hoping it would be a promise and not just a request._  
  
_Then Nadia began screaming, Sylvio woke back up, and Lance nearly started crying because he just wanted to sleep. But his mother had told him to be a good father, his sister was counting on him, and he knew Nadia would give him those huge glittering brown eyes in the morning that would make him forget all this. Or maybe he would just be too tired to remember._  
  
_Lance sighed, shifting the crying Sylvio so he was balanced against his shoulder, and ran to pick up Nadia as well. ‘Why’ didn’t matter, as long as he was able to take care of them._  


  


Krolia frowned, shoulders rising like a castle wall and chin jerking up.  
  
“I left to protect the ones I love,” she said sharply. “The Galra Empire was beginning to invade Earth again; I could not sit by and raise Keith knowing that his future might one day be nothing more than slavery. Even if it meant giving him up, I could not give up on him.”

  


_“And the little princess lives happily ever after, knowing she only has to be beautiful inside to be the best princess in all the land,” finished Lance, closing the book he had made in school that day like it was an actual story._  
  
_“Gaba!” Insisted Nadia, and Lance booped her nose and nodded seriously like he knew exactly what she was trying to say._  
  
_He didn’t._  
  
_“Oh, hey! Don’t pull on that, mister!” Scolded Lance, batting Sylvio’s hands away from the little charm pinned to the blue shirt that had belonged to, respectively, Lance’s dad, Luis, Marco, and Lance. “Gra—Great-grandma made you that. It’s going to keep the demons away, so don’t take it off!”_  
  
_Lance didn’t know if he believed that himself, but if his grandma did, then who was he to complain?_  
  
_“Gabadaba!” Shrieked Nadia, flailing, and Lance blew a raspberry on her belly until she started laughing._  
  
_Sylvio stared at them for a long second, then he began shrieking with laughter, and Lance giggled until his stomach hurt. They were his niece and nephew, but sometimes…they just seemed like his own chil—_  
  
_“Come on!” He cheered, snatching up the nearest book to chase that thought away; it was too rude to Kenneth’s memory. “Onto the next adventure!”_

  


Lance groaned, raising both hands to his temples and rubbing circles into them as if that would alleviate the frustration threatening to split his skin.  
  
“Dios mios, why are you and Keith both like this?” He groaned. “Look, I get it, you two want to solve all the world’s problems by yourself and never let anyone help, but let me tell you from experience, that never works out!”  
  
Krolia blinked, nose wrinkling like a kitten and nearly pulling a giggle from Lance. Kittens, both her and her son.  
  
“I was not alone,” she said slowly. “I had the Blade of Marmora working with me.”  
  
“You didn’t let your family help, though,” snapped Lance. “Sometimes, protecting people means asking them for help! It means letting them take on some of your burden and getting some of your trust in return. Because otherwise, you can really hurt them. Running away doesn’t help anyone.”

  


_“Say bye to Grandma,” snickered Lance, balancing Nadia on his hip and nearly squealing with pride as she began actually waving. “Bye-bye!”_  
  
_As fun as it had been to wave around her chubby little baby hand, the fact that she was able to do it on her own now made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest and start pirouetting around the room._  
  
_“Lance,” scolded his mother, lips fighting to hide her smile as she yanked her shoes on; she had gotten another emergency call._  
  
_Lance just grinned and adjusted Sylvio, who was clinging to his back like a koala in a baseball cap._  
  
_“Be safe, Mom,” he said, tipping his head forwards to drop a kiss on her cheek. “I love you.”_  
  
_“You be safe too, Lance,” she replied, kissing his forehead. “I love you, my little knight.”_  
  
_The door slammed shut behind her, and Lance sank to his knees, allowing Sylvio to slide off his back and balance precariously on his own tiny feet._  
  
_“Okay, what do you two want to do today with Uncle Lance?” He asked, turning to pick up Sylvio properly._  
  
_Nadia immediately started squirming, kicking and making grabby hands at the wall, mouth screwed up into a tiny pout. Lance raised an eyebrow, but set her down anyway. He knew better than to fight with that look by now; if she started to do something dumb, he would just swoop in and pull her onto his back._  
  
_Nadia pressed her tiny palm to the wall, extending the other like a plane, and slid one of her feet forwards carefully, lips puckered in concentration. Lance felt all his breath drain from his body, and he reached out to carefully hold her extended hand. Nadia’s face bloomed into a smile at that and she snuck another step in before wobbling off her feet. Lance’s arm shot out on instinct, wrapping carefully around her stomach so the landing wasn’t too abrupt, and sweeping her into his arms so he could blow a raspberry on her tummy._  
  
_“That was amazing, Nadia!” He cheered, rocking the little bundle of laughter in his arms and blowing another raspberry. “You’re my little princess, you know that?”_  
  
_Sylvio batted at his legs, and Lance scooped him into his arms with a laugh. “Don’t worry, buddy,” he promised. “You’re my little prince.”_

_  
_

Krolia’s frown came back full-force, and Lance had to dig his heels into the ground because geez, her hellfire glare was even worse than Keith’s or Allura’s!  
  
“Allow my newborn child and human husband to help me fight an intergalactic space empire?” She growled. “They would be dead within ticks.”  
  
“Oh please,” scoffed Lance. “Even Keith’s gossiped with enough Blade members to know how many of them have kids and spouses on one of their super secret outposts or ships. They take missions that give them time to visit their families, and none of those places have been compromised! And yeah, it’s dangerous, but family makes things work; they make time for one another.”

  


_“Happy Birthday, you little rascal!” Snorted Lance, grabbing Sylvio by the waist and lifting the gurgling boy into the air with a laugh. “Come on, if you don’t hurry, your sister’s going to eat all the cake! It’s your first one too!”_  
  
_Sylvio squealed and batted at Lance’s hair as he was settled on the eleven-year-old’s shoulders. Lance giggled, running through the house and making Sylvio whoop with laughter, the chuckles of his family seeping through the walls. Then the words._  
  
_“You’ve done a great job raising these two and Lance, Mom,” said Rachel, and Lance froze._  
  
_“I don’t know how you deal with three high-energy kids!” Agreed Marco._  
  
_Lance’s chest seized and hot anger boiled through him like a wildfire. Yes, his mom did what she could, but even she said that she was gone most of the week. He was the one who took care of them in the mornings while she came home, he was the one who dropped them off at daycare, went to school, picked them up, and took care of them again while she ran errands and handled her shifts. He was crazy grateful that she handled grocery shopping and the like, but he was the one who fed and bathed and, well, raised these two. He liked taking care of Sylvio and Nadia, it wasn’t like he was just doing it for recognition, but the idea that they were going to erase the effort he had put into raising his little angels, the bonds he had with them…_  
  
_Sylvio snagged one of his curls and yanked. Lance yelped, tilting his head to glare at the kid, but Sylvio just laughed and Lance gave up on trying to be mad at him.  
“Come on, little prince,” he whispered conspiratorially. “Let’s get you some of your treasure, huh?”_  
  
_“Daddy!” Squealed Sylvio._  
  
_Lance’s heart stopped. He stared, wide-eyed at the little boy waving his arms around on Lance’s shoulders, only ten years younger than him, and already a ball of sunshine. His ball of sunshine. No matter what anyone said._  


  


“That would be exposing Keith to this war,” replied Krolia. “As a mother, I couldn’t do that.”  
  
“As a mother, you shouldn’t have abandoned him to the idea that he wasn’t worthy of love or staying!” Shot back Lance. “You should have fought for a way to keep yourself in his life! Giving up like that just hurt him! And yeah, you couldn’t have known his dad would die, but why didn’t you leave Keith anything that told him you loved him? A note, a video, a song, anything?”  


  


_“Daddy! Daddy!” Shrieked Nadia, running through the house and waving her stubby arms. “Dress!”_  
  
_“That’s right, princess!” Cooed Lance, catching the tiny girl and picking her up to spin her around the room. “Who’s wearing her pretty pink dress? Do you want to go have breakfast with daddy and Sylvio?”_  
  
_Sylvio had started drinking from his own cup in the last week, and Lance was eager to get to the kitchen in case he tried by himself again. The first time it had happened, the boy’s bib, outfit, chair, and the floor beneath him all were soaked in a matter of seconds, and he promptly started wailing. Then Nadia began to cry and shriek at the same time, and Lance had scrambled around calming the crying babies, cleaning up the floor, and only arriving fifteen minutes late to school. So when Sylvio started trying again the next morning, Lance just switched seats to help the tiny boy._  
  
_CRASH!_  
  
_Sylvio’s screaming echoed from the kitchen, and Lance broke out into a full-on sprint, clutching Nadia close to his chest as he rounded the corner in case he needed to grab a knife or something—_  
  
_“Really?”_  
  
_Lance groaned at the spilled bowl of yogurt, crying baby, and Nadia’s owlish stare. He was definitely going to be late again._  


  


“I left him my Blade—”  
  
“Oh, come on!” Nearly wailed Lance, gripping his hair like he wanted to tear it out and hurl it in Krolia’s face. “You really think a knife screams love? Because, newsflash, it definitely doesn’t to humans!”

  


_“That’s right, come towards me!” Cheered Lance, clapping his hands as Sylvio trudged across the yard, arms outstretched like he was trying to balance on a tightrope. “You’re doing great, buddy!”_  
  
_Sylvio teetered to one side, tottered to the other, and sat down with a thump, scowling at Lance. Lance just beamed. “Come on, little prince, come to daddy!”_  
  
_Sylvio wobbled back to his feet; he wasn’t as good at walking as his sister, who was running around the yard shrieking. But that just made Lance proud of every step he took._  
  
_“Daddy!” Called Sylvio, tottling towards him and pouting fiercely. “Daddy!”_  
  
_“Yep!” Whooped Lance. “Come towards daddy!”_  
  
_Sylvio stumbled to the side, and Lance kept his arms outstretched carefully, eyes scanning for any emergency or need to leap in and sweep the child into his arms. He trusted Sylvio though, the kid was his nephew. Son, whispered his traitorous mind, and Lance let it happen because no one was there to scowl at him. It was inside, silent, his own._  
  
_“Daddy!” Cried Sylvio, and Lance recognized the pouting lip and wide, glistening eyes as a sign that it was time to snuggle the kid up to his chest and call it a day._  
  
_He had made it further today anyway, and that was all Lance really wanted. He wanted Sylvio to never give up, just like Lance’s mom, working overtime and weekends to try and make ends meet, or their own mom, who was fighting through grief and separation from her children to finish her education and give them the best life she could._  
  
_“Syl!” Crowed Nadia, grabbing Sylvio’s hand and grinning at him. “Daddy!”_  
  
_“Daddy!”_  
  
_She tugged so hard they both immediately fell on their faces with a loud WHUMP. Lance blinked. Then he leapt to his feet to run, scoop them both into his arms, and hug them until they stopped crying. He would have to maneuver the orange juice from the fridge—_  
  
_Sylvio picked himself back up. Nadia popped back to her feet, and the two grabbed hands again. Lance sank back to a seated position, gulping, and holding out his arms. Then his angels both began teetering, tottering, falling, standing, and swaying their way over._  
  
_Lance waited patiently, arms outstretched, and the moment the two came within reach, he swept them into a crushing hug to hide his tears._  
  
_“Good job, Sylvio, Nadia,” he whispered, stroking their hair and willing the burning pride behind his eyes to relent. “My little royals. I love you two so much. I’m so proud of you.”_  


  


“I wanted him to be able to protect himself!” Snapped Krolia. “What if the Galra made it back to Earth and I wasn’t there to help? I couldn’t risk Keith dying.”  
  
“And you couldn’t write a note or something that said that?!”  
  
Krolia blinked.

  


_“No!” Shrieked Nadia, waving her arms wildly and nearly growling at Lance. “No nap!”_  
  
_Lance wanted to cry. Sylvio was teething and in seemingly constant pain, Nadia was refusing to sleep anymore, and his teachers were practically attacking him for his lateness, sloppy work, and tendency to fall asleep at his desk. It wasn’t his fault that he could really only do work late in the evening or when his kids were asleep! And yeah, that meant it wasn’t done as well, so what? He was still passing! Heck, he was still getting As!_  
  
_“Nadia,” pleaded Lance. “It’s ten o’clock, you know that’s your nap time. What’s wrong? You have your blanket, your stuffed animal, the night light on, and your little brother asleep like an angel next to you.”_  
  
_Nadia folded her arms and whipped her head away defiantly. Lance groaned and shifted so he was next to her, tilting his head slowly to the side. “…Do you want me to stay?” He asked slowly. “Do you want Daddy to nap with you?”_  
  
_Nadia turned back to him, pouting fiercely, teary eyes wide and shining with sleep, and clutched his hand. Lance’s heart melted._  
  
_“Okay, princess,” he promised, laying beside her and wrapping her in the soft, yellow blanket Veronica had sent a month ago. “I’ll stay. Sweet dreams, little princess.”_  
  
_An hour later, Lance was woken up by his little prince screaming because his teeth were coming in and he didn’t like them._  


  


“It never occurred to me,” she admitted. “Or to Keith’s father.”  
  
Lance groaned, slapping his palm against his forehead and barely resisting the urge to switch into Spanish and swear to everything both holy and unholy.  
  
“Okay,” he sighed. “Okay. So, baseline. You left to protect Keith from the Empire.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“You never gave him anything to explain why you left or that you loved him.”  
  
“Like I said, my kni—”  
  
“_Overtly_ explaining and saying you loved him.”  
  
“……No.”  


  


_“Lance!” Cried his mother, sweeping into the kitchen with a letter clutched in her hand and eyes wider than the twelve-year-old had ever seen._  
  
_“What is i—Nadia! You can’t be the knight if you’re going to beat Sylvio up!” Scolded Lance, plucking the writhing two-year-old off her brother. “Look, I’m the big scary dragon! What brave knight could ever slay me?”_  
  
_Nadia immediately whacked his forehead with her cardboard sword and Lance flopped onto his back, dropping Nadia onto his stomach and tucking his smile away for later. He had to be very very dead right now. Nadia giggled and held up her sword triumphantly as Sylvio began patting Lance’s cheeks. Okay, Lance was actually going to be very very dead soon if his nephew didn’t stop being so cute._  
  
_“Lance,” sighed his mother, though she couldn’t hide the smile creeping into her voice. “We have a letter from the Garrison.”_  
  
_“The what?” Asked Lance, reaching over to tickle Sylvio’s stomach and make the smaller boy shriek._  
  
_Nadia hit him on the head again._  
  
_“The Galaxy Garrison,” replied his mom, tearing open the seal. “It’s the top flight school in America.”_  
  
_“America?” Asked Lance, wrinkling his nose. “Why are they sending us anything?”_  
  
_Sylvio jumped on his stomach and Lance huffed, trapping both of them in his arms and sitting up with a cackle to blow raspberries in their cheeks. Nadia laughed and flailed at his face, and Sylvio just giggled._  
  
_“Lance,” whispered his mother. “Lance, they’re offering you a spot.”_  
  
_“Fun,” snorted Lance. “Anyway, what’s for dinner? I think Nadia’s already getting a sweet tooth, just wait till Sylvio gets his!”_  
  
_“Lance!” Scolded his mother. “I’m not joking. It’s a full ride scholarship!”_  
  
_“Mom,” groaned Lance, standing and clasping his niece’s hand in one of his and his nephew’s in the other. “I’m not going to America. These guys start preschool in a few weeks, and Ronny’s going back for her master’s degree next year. You know you’re too busy to take care of them, and I like doing it. I don’t need to go to flight school yet.”_  
  
_“It’s your dream, though! You were specially selected, Lance,” argued his mother. “Professor Wazir asked for you. He says…”_  
  
_She paused, reading the rest of the letter, and all the blood drained from her face._  
  
_“He’s…”_  
  
_Lance frowned, shooing his kids into their room and burying them under blankets and kisses. His mom was still staring at the paper like it had turned to gold when he stepped back out._  
  
_“What is it?” He murmured; he had never seen her look like that before._  
  
_“They’re offering to bring us all over since you’re a minor,” she whispered. “They’re offering us all green cards.”_  
  
_Lance froze._  
  
_“All of us?” He managed. “Like…like Sylvio and Nadia all of us? Ronny and Luis and Marco and Rachel? Grandma and Grandpa? All of us?”_  
  
_“All of us,” she whispered. “They’ve listed every last McClain.”_  
  
_Lance practically fell to the floor, swallowing heavily and staring through the door like America was just on the other side._  
  
_“B-but Rachel and Luis and Marco are still in college!” He protested. “They’d have to switch schools!”_  
  
_“I’ll write to them,” promised his mom. “Ronny too.”_  
  
_“Your job—!”_  
  
_“Paramedics are needed everywhere, baby.”_  
  
_“But it’s impossible!”_  
  
_“Why?”_  
  
_“Because—!”_  
  
_Lance’s words caught in his throat, tumbling over one another and writhing to get out, all of them beyond his reach. This was impossible. It had to be. “It’s too good to be true.”_  
  
_His mother’s wide brown eyes softened, and she knelt to place a hand on his shoulder, so much broader than they had been two years ago._  
  
_“We will make it happen,” she promised. “We’re Cubans. We’ll figure it out.”_  
  
_Lance laughed quietly, his blood still lightning in his veins at the idea of maybe, finally, touching the stars. Good thing that one spy decided to go for Professor Wazir’s wallet or Lance would never have gotten to show off his fancy flying skills. Who knew? Maybe it would carry his family to America._  


_His kids slept through most of the immigration process. Lance held them for as long as he could, and Veronica never once argued his right to. He had raised them. Nadia and Sylvio may be his niece and nephew to the world, but to him, they were his daughter and son. He would protect them, no matter what._  


  


“And you didn’t consider any other option because you wanted the war to stay far away from him even if that meant you did too?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Lance took a long, deep breath in. He breathed out. He took another deep breath in.  


  


_“Lance, you’re not allowed to be here!” Scolded his mother for the seventh time that week, the thirtieth time that month, and the sixty-first time since he had started at the Garrison. “You’re on a scholarship! You can’t be sneaking out every night!”_  
  
_“No one’s caught me yet, and I’m doing fine with classes!” Replied Lance, not even bothering with his usual faux-sheepish smile and raising his voice cheerily. “Where are my little royals?”_  
  
_“Daddy!” Shrieked Nadia and Sylvio, both kids tearing through the house to greet him._  
  
_His mother threw up her hands in surrender and ushered Lance into the house while he hugged the kids to him and listened to their jolting babbles about their day at preschool. His mom sighed and dropped a kiss on his cheek._  
  
_“I’ll be home before you leave in the morning,” she promised._  
  
_“Night shift?” Guessed Lance, kissing her cheek in return, and she just shrugged with a laugh._  
  
_“I’ll get the job done.”_  
  
_“I know.”_  
  
_Then his mom was out the door, and Lance was alone with his kids again. He would spend the evening cooing over their drawings, reading them new stories he had borrowed from the Garrison library, and promising again to show them the stars as soon as they were old enough._  
  
_And, as soon as they finished dinner, Lance would play his guitar and sing while Nadia and Sylvio whirled around the room, clapping and dancing and screeching along until they collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. Then Lance would carry them to bed, tuck them in, and kiss them goodnight._  
  
_“I love you,” he would promise them every night._  
  
_He would drink as many cups of coffee as he needed to finish his homework, stuff it all in his bag, and pass out in the guest room. Sometimes, Nadia or Sylvio would have a nightmare and come cuddle with him in the middle of the night. If he was lucky, he’d be asleep by then. If not, he woke up early to finish whatever homework was left._  
  
_In the morning, he would kiss his exhausted mother again, take his kids to school, and bike at full speed back to the Garrison. He’d hide his bike behind a gardening shack at the back of campus, climb up to his second-story dorm and slip in through the window. Hunk would complain about his habits, but his uniform would be laid out on his bed, so Lance would laugh and thank him even if he ended up late._  
  
_Then he would do it all again tomorrow, the day after, the week after that, the month, the year after that. He wouldn’t lose his family, no matter what. He wouldn’t lose his kids._  


  


“You and your son are both going to drive me _insane!_” He declared. “And yeah, what happened already happened, but can you please understand that you had other options? Like, it wasn’t him being safe on Earth or dying to the Galra Empire? Because that’s what needs to change going forwards. You need to understand that there are usually other ways of doing something. You need to think of everything before giving up _because family is worth it._”  


  


_“Lance McClain?” Called the teacher, poking his head into the room. “There’s a call for you in the office.”_  
  
_“Uh, OK,” he murmured, mulling over the English in his head for a moment. “Can—will you show me the office?”_  
  
_“Of course,” replied the pilot, waiting for Lance to rise and cross the room._  
  
_The walk was filled with chatter, even though the officer had clearly not expected it to be. Lance babbled about his crazy family and, after many gentle prods, the officer joined in. He relished in the stories of his three children, one who was in middle school, one in elementary, and one just starting kindergarten. Lance commented that his niece and nephew were still in preschool, and was about to add that they’d both be turning four soon when a door appeared in his face. The office was closer than he had expected, and the telephone was bigger than he had foreseen._  
  
_“Hello?” He asked cautiously, cradling the black receiver as if it might bite him._  
  
_“Is this Lance McClain, the guardian of Nadia and Sylvio McClain?”_  
  
_Lance’s grip around the phone tightened. He wasn’t; Veronica was their mother and their legal guardian._  
  
_“This is Lance McClain,” he said cautiously. “What happened to Nadia and Sylvio?”_  
  
_“I’m afraid your daughter is quite sick, Mr. McClain. She has a temperature of one hundred and two, and will not stop crying. She was asking for you—”_  
  
_“I’ll be over in half an hour!” Promised Lance, wondering vaguely if the phone was going to crack with how tightly he was holding it. “Hand me to Sylvio for a minute!”_  
  
_“Mr. McClain—”_  
  
_“Hand me to Sylvio!”_  
  
_There was a slight stuttering, but then a familiar voice, thick with tears garbled through the phone._  
  
_“Papi?”_  
  
_Lance shoved his terror deep into the pit of his stomach and yanked a smile onto his face for good measure._  
  
_“Hey buddy,” he said, the Spanish comforting even to his own ears. “I’m going to come pick you and your sister up, then we’re going to go home and have some juice, okay? I have a new story for you two, I think you’ll really like it. Can you come up with a story to tell me? Something about a brave princess who slays a dragon?”_  
  
_Sylvio sniffled, but his voice came out clearer this time._  
  
_“Uh-huh. I can do that.”_  
  
_“That’s my little prince,” soothed Lance. “I’ll be right there.”_  
  
_Lance set the phone down gently, then whipped around to face the teacher watching him and snapped, “My niece is sick and I have to pick her up; can I use someone’s hoverbike?”_  
  
_“Tha-that’s not allow—”_  
  
_“Lance,” called Professor Wazir, tossing Lance his keys without once looking up from his computer. “Take mine. Just don’t try that backflip you pulled on the motorized scooter in Cuba.”_  
  
_“No promises!”_  
  
_Then Lance was gone, streaking down the halls and into the courtyard. He knew Professor Wazir’s hoverbike was a rich, dark green (his boyfriend teased him about it constantly), so at least it was easy to pick out. His leg was over it a second later, and Lance tore through the gates, skidding down the roads and shooting towards his kids._  


_Nadia was okay. Her fever had broken two hours ago. Sylvio had stopped crying the moment Lance had given him an extra cup of orange juice. They were both snuggled against him, babbling even in their sleep._  
  
_They were okay. They were okay. They were okay, they were okay, they were okay……_  
  
_Lance blew out a breath and set the book down, wondering how far behind on homework this would put him. At least he had the evening to finish it. At least his kids were okay._  


  


Krolia’s mouth twisted, her fingers tugging on one another, and a slight _hmph_ in the back of her throat. Dios mios, she was just as bad as Keith.  
  
“I am…not happy with how this turned out,” she admitted. “But I did not see these alternatives.”  
  
“That’s why you need to ask for help,” said Lance, his voice coming out softer than he had intended; Krolia’s eyebrows rose at the sudden change in tone. “You need to let your family take on some of the burden because they might help you think of these options. You can’t protect the people you love without relying on them, because if you try to, you’ll lose them eventually.”  


  


_“Lance,” called Professor Wazir after school one day. “Could you do me a favor?”_  
  
_“Sure,” chirped Lance, hurrying over to his desk with a particularly wide smile he hoped would make whatever this was go faster so he could get home soon!_  
  
_Professor Wazir smirked._  
  
_“See, my boyfriend loves to have us double up on his hoverbike, so mine’s getting rusty just sitting in the garage. I need someone to take it out everyday after school, fly it for a few rounds, you know. I don’t know how long it’ll take, the engine can be finicky, but do you think you could manage it?”_  
  
_Lance stared, and the professor’s smirk widened. “I have a spare key. It’s a pretty fast bike, you know. Quiet too. It can get well over twenty five miles from the Garrison in ten minutes if you let it rip.”_  
  
_Lance gulped, and slowly reached out to accept the offered hand even though the key was on the table._  
  
_“Thank you, Professor.”_  
  
_“Call me Adam.”_  


  


Krolia pursed her lips and finally dropped her arms, letting them swing by her sides.  
  
“Family is stronger together,” she murmured, as if remembering a conversation from long ago.  
  
“Always,” agreed Lance, a lump curling in the base of his throat and eyes burning at the force of those memories. “Always.”  
  
Krolia sighed, exhaustion painting her face till it reminded Lance painfully of his own mother, but she blew out a short, sharp breath and turned back towards the holomap. It made Lance’s chest constrict for some reason.  
  
“I…I will apologize to Keith. Do you think I should wait until he comes, or should I find him? Show him I want to make an effort to get to know him?”  
  
Lance’s face broke out into a full, sunshine grin at that, and he gripped the pendant dangling from his neck as if he could send Keith the love he could practically see in every movement Krolia made. He hoped Keith would be able to see it too.  


  


_Lance was there when Sylvio and Nadia started kindergarten, and he was the one who threw them a huge party to celebrate. He was the one who was there when Veronica went into the space training program and couldn’t spend time with her children because she had to make enough money to provide for them. He was the one who explained to Nadia why she couldn’t hit people, who helped Sylvio paint his bike over to hide the racist slurs, who talked them through Spanish first and then English. He was the one who taught them math and music and acting and how to love, love, love, love with all their heart._  
  
_He was their papi._  
  
_Every morning, dropping them off, he promised he loved them, and every evening before they went to bed._  
  
_“I love you,” he had said, kissing them both on the forehead when shooing them into school for what should have just been another day at first grade._  
  
_But he never came back home. And that was a year ago._  
  
_But if he never came back home, at least he left them knowing that there was someone who loved them._  


  


“Wait for Keith,” he advised. “He’s going to want to take this at his own pace. So just…just trust him, okay?”  
  
Krolia nodded, eyes sharpening like this was a strategy meeting, and Lance chuckled. “Anyway, that was all I wanted to say. Good luck with that map; it likes to turn into some sort of space tiger and attack you if you leave it alone for too long.”  
  
“Was…was that a joke?” Asked Krolia, tilting her head as the map wiggled behind her. “The Princess said you like to do this joking thing.”  
  
“Yeah, I like joking,” gulped Lance as the map turned red. “That one wasn’t a joke. DUCK!”  


  


“Hunk. Pidge. Matt,” panted Keith, glaring daggers at the three grinning techies. “I am two ticks away from throwing you all in the invisible maze and letting you stumble your electrocuted way out, so what the heck was that?!”  
  
“Well, you’re not dead!”  
  
“That should not be your bar for activities!” Snapped Keith, brushing green pixels off his jacket and ignoring the way the others were failing to hide their giggles.  
  
Yes, he had stolen Lance’s jacket that morning and refused to give it back. It had a hood. He was keeping it.  
  
“Awwww, come on, you enjoyed it once you got your feet under you!” Teased Matt, slinging an arm over his shoulder and poking Keith’s cheek. “You were even smiling!”  
  
Keith tried to bite his finger off. Matt just grinned. “You liked it and you know it!”  
  
“You sound like Lance, knock it off,” groaned Keith, shoving Matt’s shoulder and resigning himself to being trapped in the half hug.  
  
“But you were super helpful!” Chirped Pidge, already on her computer and typing up a storm. “I think we almost have enough data to make a fully non-deadly version; you up for playing this again tomorrow?”  
  
“What?! Not a cha—!”  
  
“_Pleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaase?_” Begged Pidge, giving him the huge sparkled eyes and slightest pout that was only enhanced by her too-large glasses.  
  
“Pidge, no,” groaned Keith. “You can’t give me that look.”  
  
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaase?”  
  
Her eyes got wider and a second wave of sparkles glistened in her irises, her lip jutting out fully and glasses sliding down just slightly.  
  
“Pidge, that’s not fair,” whined Keith.  
  
Pidge just pouted harder. Keith dropped his head in his hands, heaving a full-body sigh and surrendering to the inevitable. “Fine. Now knock it off with the puppy eyes!”  
  
“YES!” Whooped Pidge, leaping to her feet and dancing around the room like a helicopter on caffeine.  
  
Hunk snickered, patting Keith’s shoulder with a shake of his head and a knowing tilt to his lips.  
  
“You just can’t say no to Pidge, huh?”  
  
“I dare you to try it.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case that was confusing, Lance basically raised his niece and nephew after their father died, which is why he confronted Krolia the way he did.
> 
> I own nothing!


	8. What Do You Want?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith was now on Quintant Two of Operation: Ask Lance to be the Only Black Paladin While He Figured Out His Mom Situation, and he kind of hated it. He hadn’t been kidding when he told Adam that Lance would run himself ragged, or when he said they were a team for a reason. He knew Lance needed him just as much as he needed Lance.

Keith was now on Quintant Two of Operation: Ask Lance to be the Only Black Paladin While He Figured Out His Mom Situation, and he kind of hated it. He hadn’t been kidding when he told Adam that Lance would run himself ragged, or when he said they were a team for a reason. He knew Lance needed him just as much as he needed Lance.  
  
But that _also_ meant he had to actually be helpful and contribute to those meetings instead of just silently fighting the desire to shank his mother! Keith wanted to give Lance the best of him in those meetings, not just be another problem!  
  
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” He asked, side-eying Lance as the boy stretched after their mind-melding session. “You look dead.”  
  
“Gee, you know, I think I _do_ want to force my partner to confront something emotionally scarring, thanks for asking,” scoffed Lance. “Keith, my man, no. Take this at your pace. And I do not look dead!”  
  
“Sorry, would you prefer zombified?”  
  
“Keith!”  
  
Keith leaned across the chairs, cupping Lance’s cheek to run a finger over the bags stretching beneath his eyes. Lance’s cheeks grew warm, and his wide blue eyes flitted away. Keith’s mouth twisted.  
  
“Are you okay, though?” He asked gently. “I know Allura flirting with Acxa has to hurt.”  
  
“Yeah, seriously,” groaned Lance. “She is painfully bad at it. But, hey! At least they’re starting to be able to actually communi—”  
  
“Lance,” snapped Keith. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”  
  
Lance blinked. Then he tilted his head so far to the side Keith barely managed to hide his shriek. Humans were not meant to move like that!  
  
“Uh, wait, what do you mean?”  
  
“You know,” faltered Keith. “Your crush. Flirting with someone else. I’m sorry about it.”  
  
He was also more than a little furious about it; Allura clearly liked Lance, she even told Keith that, so why was she—  
  
Lance let out a shriek of laughter and bent double, clutching his stomach and cackling as tears filled his eyes. Keith jerked backwards, and Lance began snorting with giggles.  
  
“Dios mios!” He choked. “Keith, Allura and I aren’t like that! I only flirt with her to lighten the mood, geez!”  
  
“But-but-she—” Stammered Keith. “I thought she loved you?”  
  
Lance tried to sit back up again, but his sides hurt too much to move even as his chuckles were beginning to die down.  
  
“Sure, she does,” he agreed. “But not romantically! It’s kind of like you and Shiro!”  
  
Keith made a face, and Lance giggled. “Seriously man, very much a no-romance love. I am a flawless, single bisexual,” he added with an exaggerated hair flip.  
  
Keith pursed his lips, rubbing his thumb over his index finger as he tried to remember exactly what Allura had said that night…  
  
_“To me, Lance is……”_  
  
_“I highly doubt that, Keith. The way I feel about Lance—”_  
  
Wait a second……  
  
_“It is okay for you to like Lance.”_  
  
_“It is okay. Our lives are not defined by this war, nor should they be.”_  
  
Allura had never…  
  
_“Please, give yourself the space to fall in love.”_  
  
Allura had never once said she liked Lance! All she had done was encourage Keith the whole time! And if she saw him as a friend, then her disbelief over the idea that they felt the same way…  
  
Keith let out a full-body groan and dropped his head in his hands, sending Lance into a fit of giggles again. Light, airy ones, like they could dance along a puff of wind.  
  
“Come on, Mullet,” he teased. “Let’s get back to the others; painful flirting and silent glaring warriors wait for no one!”  
  
“Don’t sound so excited,” sighed Keith, standing as his thumb turned into a lawn mower on his pointer finger. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Sorry about this.”  
  
“Keith,” snorted Lance, shoving his shoulder lightly. “I already said take your time. I know its a lot. Go stress-cook with Hunk or game with Pidge, I bet they’d love to hang out. Have you told them the situation yet?”  
  
“I told everyone yesterday while you were at your meeting,” promised Keith. “Adam and Shiro literally stood up and walked out of the room looking like murder.”  
  
“They would!” Replied Lance with a bark of laughter, tossing his hoodie at Keith with a wink. “Here, I’m in my armor all day now after all.”  
  
Keith felt like fireworks had exploded over his face, and Lance just snickered as he made a beeline out of the Black Lion. Keith jerked the hoodie off his head, growling at the door until he was completely positive that his partner was gone. Then he slipped it on, flopping the hood over his head and flapping his jacket paws like a little kid. It made him feel stupidly free.

  


“Keeeiiith,” hissed Pidge, looming behind him in what would have been a very intimidating position if she weren’t the size of a hobbit.  
  
“I know, Pidge, I’ll come play your game,” groaned Keith, standing and preparing to be chased around the training room for another varga by Pidge’s maniacal version of Space Pokemon.  
  
With Pidge, you either went graciously along with her technology or you were forced into it. That second method was usually much more painful.  
  
“Actually, Hunk’s calling for you in the kitchen,” said Pidge, adjusting her glasses with a crooked grin. “I came up with this new program last night to maximize Voltron’s area of movement in the joints, so I’m going to be adding that to the Lions today. I’m going to tackle Black last though, since I’ll need you and your boyfriend for that one.”  
  
“Pidge,” growled Keith as he rubbed his temples. “For the last time, Lance is not my boyfriend!”  
  
“You are literally wearing his jacket, Keith. Shut up.”  
  
“Friends borrow clothes!” Snapped Keith, pulling the jacket tighter around himself and stalking from the room, grumbling about goblins and bayards.  
  
Pidge just smirked.

  


“Hey, buddy!” Cheered Hunk as Keith entered, waving from behind the counter where Matt was also slinging an apron on. “Thanks, this dish was designed by someone with six arms, so it’s easier if I have some helpers!”  
  
“I’ve never cooked,” warned Keith. “Well, I’ve never cooked decently.”  
  
“You were in a desert by yourself for a year,” pointed out Hunk, washing his hands and bumping Matt away from the cutting board. “You must have made meals for yourself then!”  
  
“……You’d be surprised what delivers to the middle of nowhere.”  
  
“Seriously?!”  
  
Matt giggled, shaking his head and squirting blue ooze into the frying pan. It sizzled the moment it hit the metal, turning a faint pink and spreading across the silver bottom.  
  
“You and Shiro both hate cooking, huh?” He commented, stirring the ooze (which seemed to be inflating?) and spreading it over the pan with a wooden spatula. “Shiro always told stories about Adam’s cooking, so when I asked him what he could make, he just hid in his helmet and muted the comms.”  
  
“He would,” snorted Keith. “He nearly burned Adam’s apartment down trying to make pasta.”  
  
“Well, I mean, dried pasta can catch fire pretty ea—”  
  
“He hadn’t put any pasta in yet.”  
  
Hunk gulped and dried his hands, turning back to dicing the thin white thing he had designated a vegetable earlier.  
  
“Great,” he commented. “Just not going to let Shiro near this kitchen ever again.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” replied Matt, washing his hands and flicking water at Keith playfully. “Not sure why you’re letting his demonic little brother near the stove though.”  
  
“Matt!” Growled Keith, but the older boy just laughed and went back to stirring the bubbles of ooze.  
  
Keith promptly filled a spoon with water and flicked it at the back of Matt’s neck, making his target shriek, Hunk groan, and himself cackle.  
  
“Keith, could you take over dicing duty?” Asked Hunk handing him the knife as he bustled over to another cabinet. “The spices call out to me.”  
  
“Uhhhh, sure?”  
  
Knives, at least, he could work with. Keith spun the blade experimentally between his fingers, snorting quietly as he imagined Lance teasing him for being a hotshot and making a big deal about how he could toss whatever needed to be fried perfectly into the pan. He wondered if Lance was a good cook.  
  
“Hey, Keith?” Asked Hunk, drawing something on the side of a bottle filled with jagged orange flakes and upending it over the pot without bothering to take off the lid. “Have you talked to your mom yet?”  
  
A thin trail of orange fell from the closed lid, but Hunk wasn’t watching it. His caramel eyes were fixed on Keith.  
  
Keith swallowed and kept chopping steadily.  
  
“No,” he murmured. “I haven’t.”  
  
“Dude, that’s just going to make it worse,” pointed out Hunk, glancing back to see that the jar had stopped dropping flakes, and he swapped it for a little test tube with purple cubes. “You’re just keeping yourself in suspense! And I don’t know about you, but my brain always seems to come up with stuff that’s way worse than the actual truth!”  
  
Keith kept chopping, scowling at the chopping board and hoping those thin, white lines weren’t from his knife. Hunk wasn’t wrong, but his life hadn’t been like that. Reality was sometimes worse than he imagined, and that was usually about family and parents.  
  
“I mean, does it really matter?” Asked Matt, stealing half of Keith’s chopped veggies and tossing them in the pan. “What’s she going to be able to do? She can’t take your family away; we could totally take her in a fight.”  
  
Keith snorted and scraped the rest of the veggies into Matt’s pan, but his movements were short and jerky.  
  
“I just don’t want to hear that she never loved me,” he admitted. “But I also don’t want to forgive her.”  
  
Matt hummed, stirring the vegetables and making room for Hunk to throw a dash of white rocks so spicy they made Keith’s nose sting.  
  
“So you don’t want her to change anything?” He guessed. “You want things to stay the way they are.”  
  
Keith accepted the bag of gray, vaguely rock-shaped vegetables from Hunk, and began slicing them.  
  
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I don’t—”  
  
Shiro’s words flooded back into his mind, freezing the next words preparing to crawl up out of his throat. _What do you want out of this?_  
  
Keith gulped.  
  
“I want…” He tried, the words tasting weird on his tongue. “I want to tell her that I already have a family. That I don’t need her.”  
  
His slices became thinner, finer, slower. The tip of the blade wasn’t cutting into the wood beneath it anymore, maybe?  
  
Matt continued stirring, and Hunk set down his spices to move closer to Keith, eyebrows furrowed. Keith moved to dicing, a slow smile spreading over his face and midnight-purple eyes softening. “I don’t need her. But I want her. She’s my mom, and I want her in my life if she’s willing to stay this time. I…I think it would be nice if she were part of my family.”  
  
Hunk’s hand settled on his shoulder, and Keith twisted his head to meet his friend’s golden-brown eyes and firm smile. He finally stopped chopping.  
  
“Then what are you going to do now?”  
  
Matt stole Keith’s cutting board, taking over slicing the rock-like things, Hunk stared at Keith like he was willing him to understand, and Lance’s words washed over Keith like a clean, ocean breeze. _You already have a family. We love you, Keith. We’ll be here every step of the way, got it?_  
  
“Got it,” decided Keith, quashing the wriggling snakes in his stomach and meeting Hunk’s gaze with a fierce smile. “I’ve got it.”  
  
Hunk beamed, whipping out a thumbs-up as Matt shoved Keith towards the door.  
  
“Good luck, man,” whispered Matt.  
  
“We’ve got your back!” Declared Hunk, and the kitchen doors slid shut with that soft sound Keith had gotten so used it.  
  
It was kind of like a purr, really. It made Keith smile.  
  
He tugged off Lance’s jacket, striding back to his room and sweeping his pink one off the bed. There was no hood, no long sleeves, nothing to hide in this time.  
  
Keith was done hiding.

  


“With a setup like that, we’re going to need more fuel,” admitted Lance, flicking through the enemy setup and twisting his mouth into a frown. “I think we could ask the Puigans to provide it?”  
  
“Since we’re supplying Blade ships, we would be better off asking the Venulai,” replied Allura, studying the report in front of her. “Lance, you were the one who allied with them, do you think they would be amenable to this?”  
  
A fond smile stole over Lance’s face as he fiddled with the crisp page, the faintest remnants of Allura’s makeup dusting the edges.  
  
“As long as we call it in as a favor for the relief efforts? Yes,” he decided. “I think they would be fine with that.”  
  
“The Empire can cover for our fleet,” promised Acxa. “We are currently running into travelling problems now because Zethrid…miscalculated her wormhole.”  
  
“Hoo boy,” joked Lance. “Which galaxy?”  
  
“Hardul,” groaned Acxa, and Lance swallowed his desire to hide beneath the table until his laughter subsided.  
  
“Opposite direction?”  
  
“Yes,” sighed Acxa. “I am honestly not sure why Zethrid was piloting; she is not a pilot!”  
  
Allura giggled and began to regale Acxa with the story of her first time piloting the Castle of Lions at age eight, so Lance just leaned back and let them have their moment. The flirting had finally stopped feeling like they were shooting arrows at one another and missing so badly that they were nearly hitting him, so he was perfectly fine leaving this as was.  
  
Plus, he really wanted them to hurry up and kiss already.  
  
“Admiral Krolia, anything you needed to discuss?”  
  
“No, that was all,” she replied, wincing when Allura mentioned her mother comforting her after she nearly crashed into a cliff face.  
  
Lance’s heart constricted; Sylvio had a tendency to space out and walk into things back at the house. Nadia would sometimes stop him, sometimes watch and laugh, and sometimes only notice too late and shout for Lance if her brother fell over. It all just depended on her mood and whether Sylvio had snuck his carrots onto her plate the night before or not.  
  
“Uh, is this thing working?” Asked the intercom, jolting Lance from his thoughts and drawing a snigger from him at the confused lilt to Hunk’s voice. “Uh, honored emissaries, lunch is ready for you all. That is, if you eat lunch. Like, totally fine if you’re not hungry or that’s not a thing, uh—”  
  
Lance strode over to the nearest wall and pressed the intercom button to respond.  
  
“We’re looking forward to it, buddy!” He promised. “We’ll all be there in a dobash, thanks!”  
  
“Uh, yeah, you bet, Lance!” Replied Hunk. “That is, Lance and Allura and, uh, everybody else. Or, everyone else.”  
  
Lance giggled.  
  
“Yep, thanks, Hunk!” He repeated. “See you soon.”  
  
“Yeah, uh, bye!”  
  
The speaker finally shut off, and Lance shot Allura a very pointed look. _That is exactly how awkward you were with Acxa._  
  
She snuck a face at him and offered her arm to Acxa, sweeping out of the meeting hall and chattering gaily with the Galran general. Lance felt the shadowy teeth digging into his heart ease just a little when she laughed.  
  
“Oh, Keith!” Exclaimed Allura. “Did you need the hall?”  
  
“Just looking for Krolia,” came the gruff response, and Lance whirled to face the doors as his partner walked in.  
  
Keith’s hair was tied back in a low ponytail, the soft pink jacket he had bought from the mall with Lance so long ago sitting prettily on his broad shoulders, and his usual heavy-toed boots moving silently across the floor. His violet eyes locked with Lance’s, and a small, scared smile slid across his face.  
  
Lance’s heart throbbed, unable to handle the mix of faith, affection, fear, and pride consuming his mind because _he had never been more in love and now really wasn’t the time for him to be realizing just how badly he had fallen for his partner, just how badly he wanted to be the one standing next to him in five years, ten years, twenty, fifty, a lifetime—_  
  
Keith sucked in a breath, his eyes cutting over to Krolia, and Lance swallowed weakly. He slipped across the room, settling one hand on Keith’s shoulder and pouring all his love into the sunshine smile he offered to the person who deserved it most in the universe.  
  
“I’ll be outside if you need me.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“You got this.”  
  
“I know,” said Keith, his smile outshining any star. “I know.”  
  
Then Lance stepped out of the room, the grand doors clicking shut behind him, and Keith dug his feet into the ground. He took a deep breath, forced his hands to remain loose by his side instead of balled into fists, and faced Krolia head-on.  
  
He was done hiding. He wanted this.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I actually don't mind Allurance, I just have some problems with how canon did it.
> 
> I own nothing!


	9. Keith and Krolia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He already knew what he wanted to say, now he had to just get it out. He could almost feel his family behind him, hands on their shoulders, promising him the world if he would only let them give it to him. If he would just ask for what he wanted.

“Hi,” began Keith, taking a breath in and blowing it out.  
  
He already knew what he wanted to say, now he had to just get it out. He could almost feel his family behind him, hands on their shoulders, promising him the world if he would only let them give it to him. If he would just ask for what he wanted.  
  
“Are you going to stay?” He blurted, stalking forwards and jamming his hands into his pockets. “Because I’m not a child anymore. I’m not a little kid who needs his mother, and my world’s not going to fall apart if you leave again.”  
  
Keith kept walking forwards, each step fueled by someone else in his life he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let down by running away again.  
  
Step. Coran, who had rigged the training room with a sound system solely so Lance could make a birthday dance for Keith.  
  
Step. Allura, who had compiled a file on the strike just to leave at his door so he wouldn’t be behind on his duties as Black Paladin.  
  
Step. Pidge, who had invented a new game to act as stress relief for him even if she pretended that wasn’t what it was for.  
  
Step. Matt, who hated cooking even more than Shiro, but pretended otherwise because he knew Keith handled emotional stuff better if his hands had something to do.  
  
Step. Hunk, who had seen past all the shoulds and should-nots to what Keith needed and was too afraid to do.  
  
Step. Adam, who had kept him on-track when he was ranting and asked him to be not only the best person, but also the best Black Paladin he could be throughout this.  
  
Step. Shiro, who had listened to half a varga of ranting, who had broken past the fear to force Keith to consider himself, his desires, and his own emotions for once.  
  
Step. Lance, who had piled all his work into a couple quintants to give Keith time to breath, who had refused to let him forget that he had a family behind him, who made a dance just for him.  
  
Step. Keith, who had spent nineteen years wondering who and where his mom was. Keith, who had spent nineteen years pulling away from everyone around him because, if his mom left him, what guarantee could anyone else offer him? Keith, who had needed an intergalactic space war, half a decaphoeb fighting with six other amazing people, two phoebs away from them, and over four phoebs of leading them to realize that he had people who loved him. Keith, who was still struggling to believe that these people he loved wouldn’t get tired of him, wouldn’t eventually walk away when they went back to their own families on Earth, wouldn’t find someone better to hang out with. Keith, himself, the boy he was fighting to believe was worthy of his family’s love.  
  
Then Keith was in front of his mom, and the words in his throat didn’t seem so heavy anymore. They were just the truth, plain and simple.  
  
“I don’t need you in my life,” he said, fixing his eyes on hers. “I have a family of my own now. I have two older brothers, a space uncle, a cousin, an older sister, a brother, a younger sister, and—” Keith choked, the words for Lance on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t, he was too scared to say them.  
  
He had never admitted it aloud, and the first person he was going to tell was definitely not going to be Krolia. So he swallowed the truth and went as close as he could instead. “—and my partner. I have a family, and it’s just getting larger. So,” he gulped, “if you want to join it, that would be nice.”  
  
Krolia’s eyes went wide, and Keith felt panic blaze through his chest like a wildfire because _he had no clue what that meant._ He wanted to bolt from the room, he wanted to hide in his room and bury himself in blankets and space movies and cry and—  
  
And run past Lance, waiting outside for him? Waiting for no other reason than that he knew Keith was scared? Waiting because he had promised Keith that he would have his family every step of the way? Waiting because he _cared?_  
  
Keith knew he couldn’t run past Lance. So he sucked in a deep breath and focused on keeping his fingers from curling into a fist.  
  
“If you want to be part of my family, and if you’re going to stay this time, then I want you,” he managed, his voice cracking and trembling because _this was what he was scared of, he was so scared of rejection, of losing someone who could be part of his family, stars, why hadn’t he realized he was so terrified of this—_  
  
“You want me?” Breathed Krolia, eyes wide and starstruck. “Even though I left you? Even though I caused you so much pain?”  
  
Keith was trying really hard not to start shaking, but she was not making this easy! She really wasn’t!  
  
“Only if you won’t leave again,” he murmured. “Only if you earn a place in my life. I don’t know why you left me nineteen years ago, and I—”  
  
“He didn’t tell you?” Asked Krolia, eyebrow climbing to hide behind her bangs. “I’m surprised. I left to protect you, Keith. To keep this war from reaching Earth and taking away your future. I left because I love you and I loved your father with all my heart.”  
  
Keith’s hands were shaking now, his breaths shallow, and his heart pounding so hard it was nearly deafening him because _how could he be mad about that, how could he still justify hating her when she had sacrificed everything to protect him, how could he not hate himself for being unable to forgive her—_  
  
“But your partner showed me I was wrong,” said Krolia softly. “And he is right. I should have asked your father for help. I should have searched for another answer or taken you to a hideout. I should not have given up so easily.”  
  
Krolia looked down, her fingers curling and uncurling, and her voice cracking slightly. “I’m sorry, Keith. I’m sorry I didn’t fight hard enough to stay in your life. I’m so sorry.”  
  
Keith stood perfectly still. He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t allow himself to shake even a fraction of an inch because if he did, he would lose it. She had loved him. She had protected him. She was sorry this was how she had done it. She was sorry she had left him. And she loved him. _His mother loved him._  
  
“I left you once. I won’t leave you again,” promised Krolia. “Leaving you was a mistake, and if you let me be part of your life—of your family—again, I won’t turn my back on you. I won’t give up so easily. I promise.”  
  
Keith’s shoulders shook, his eyes burning like Red had thrown a flame blast in his mind, his hands trembling, his breath coming fast and sharp, his heart screaming, screaming, screaming—  
  
“You want me?” His voice quivered, his vision blurred, and every muscle inside him locked for the scoff, the laugh, the denial that had to follow a question like that—  
  
“Of course I want you, Keith,” whispered Krolia. “I love you.”  
  
Keith’s shoulders heaved, and his head fell into his hands, a sob tearing through his throat and nearly bringing him to his knees. Krolia uttered a quiet sound, almost like a half-cry, and he recognized the jerk of her body. She was scared. She was scared, like him, of messing this up. She was scared of being rejected, she was scared of hurting him, and she was terrified of losing him again. She was just like him. And if she was just like him, then they both needed the exact same thing right now.  
  
Keith wrapped his arms around her back, burying his face in her shoulder as he shuddered with the force of his sobs. He felt Krolia go rigid under him and, just as quickly, he felt her forcibly relax every last one of her muscles, bending just slightly to hug him close. She exhaled long and slow, one hand pressing comfortingly to the back of his head and the other wrapping all the way around his back. Her shoulders were shaking too.  
  
“We’re a mess, huh?” Hiccuped Keith, and Krolia hitched out a laugh.  
  
“Your father was just as bad,” she choked, and Keith giggled.  
  
Then he held on tighter.  
  
“I want you to stay. I want you to earn me.”  
  
“I will. I promise. I love you, Keith.”  
  
Krolia pulled back, brushing the tears from his cheeks as if she didn’t have matching streaks down her face. “I love you, and I’ll tell you that however many times you need to hear it to believe that I do.”  
  
Keith’s face crumpled into tears again, and Krolia’s hands steadied against his shoulders. “Do you want me to get Shiro or Adam? Your partner?”  
  
Keith nodded, burying his face in his hands again.  
  
“Thank you,” he whispered, cracks splintering the two words into a million memories of empty nights, loveless hugs, and promises that he was unworthy of everything he had right now. “Dining hall.”  
  
“I got it,” promised Krolia, squeezing his shoulder and dashing for the door.  
  
Barely a tick later, Keith was enveloped in Lance’s arms, and he sunk to the floor. Lance knelt with him, pulling the sobbing boy into his lap and curling around him like a protective angel. Keith clung to him but, through his tears, he couldn’t help but smile.  
  
“Lance,” he whispered. “She loves me. She’s not going to leave me.”  
  
Lance’s eyes grew into small moons, and Keith couldn’t help but beam at the beautiful face he loved so much, the words he hadn’t been able to say before surging through him once again. His soulmate. Lance was his soulmate.  
  
“You forgave her?” Murmured Lance, a strange mist sweeping through his beautiful blue orbs and a shaky smile curving across his lips. “You’re okay?”  
  
“No and yes,” replied Keith, giggling a little for no reason at all; just because he could. “I didn’t forgive her yet, but…I gave her a chance to earn that forgiveness. She was protecting me, and she promised she won’t leave again. She loves me. She wants me.”  
  
“Who couldn’t?” Breathed Lance, laughing quietly even as his irises wavered with tears. “Dios mios, Keith. Who wouldn’t love you?”  
  
“Keith!” Cried Shiro, streaking into the room with Adam barely a step behind him, and Keith smiled at Lance like a sun coming out from behind the clouds after so, so, so long.  
  
“Keith, are you okay?” Asked Adam, kneeling beside the two boys, and Shiro reached over carefully to card his fingers through Keith’s hair.  
  
Keith’s smile just grew wider. They were his people. They were his family. And they were with him. They had been with him through it all, and they would be with him going forwards. He finally, finally, finally could believe that. He could finally, truly trust them. Not because his mom loved him, not because she had left to protect him, none of that was why. It was because they were all looking at him, shaking, crying, vulnerable, like he was a treasure to protect. Like he was worth it, no matter what. And, maybe, it was time to believe them on that one too.  
  
So Keith sat up. Lance’s fingers brushed the tears from his cheeks tenderly, Shiro found his hand, and Adam rubbed his back as the hitching melted from his breathing.  
  
“Thank you,” he breathed. “I-I’m—thank you.”  
  
He leaned his head against Lance’s shoulder and exhaled, blowing away all the lingering doubt and fear. He was free, finally. Keith was free. “I’ve never been better.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	10. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had been with Keith through the craziest year and hadn’t even hesitated to turn it into the brightest, warmest, kindest time of Keith’s life. But, more than anything else, he had given Keith the faith to tack a “yet” onto the end of that.

Keith ran his thumb over Black’s joystick, humming under his breath as he waited for Lance to come. Normally, Lance was the first one in their Lion and would be waiting with a cheeky smile and some sort of quip when Keith stumbled his way in. Then it would be ten minutes of them pointedly ignoring Black’s complaints about wasting time while Lance fixed Keith’s puffy bedhead. Keith had just started leaving his brush in Black at this point, and Lance kept hair ties dangling around his wrist at all times.  
  
Well, that was a habit he had joined the Castle with because of his niece and sisters, but he had mentioned to Keith once that he tried to break it for the first seven phoebs or so until Allura, and then Keith, began messing with their hair. Keith’s lips curved into a smile without his permission as he remembered Lance’s giggling grin as he threatened to braid Keith’s hair next time he ended up in a healing pod. Keith had promptly threatened to shave Lance if he had to be stuck in one of those again.  
  
“Buenos días, hermosa,” called Lance as the door swished open, jerking Keith back to reality so hard he smacked his head against the back of his chair.  
  
“Ow,” groaned Keith, ignoring the shriek and piercing CLATTER that punctuated Lance dropping his helmet behind Keith.  
  
“Since when do you get here early enough to lurk, Mullet?” Complained Lance, scrambling to pick up his helmet as Keith grimaced and rubbed the back of his head.  
  
“Since when do you have the voice of a guinea pig?” Shot back Keith, grinning as Lance made a face at him in response. “Anyway, I got here early to ask Black if I could try something.”  
  
Lance plopped into the seat beside him, hand automatically covering Keith’s over the joystick and sunshine breaking out across his face like a summer sky.  
  
“Oh? What are you plotting now, Mullet?” He teased, tugging on one of Keith’s fluffy locks and biting his lip to keep from giggling. “Ok, you even brushed your hair; now I’m scared.”  
  
“Haha. Shut up and trust me,” huffed Keith, catching Lance’s hand as it fell and tucking both of them over the joystick with a smile. “I wanted to say thank you.”  
  
Lance’s eyes widened, the deep blue catching Black’s light until his irises were full starry night skies sparkling like a thousand reminders that Keith wasn’t alone in this universe. In a way, that was always what Lance had been to him. He had reached out to Keith when the responsibility was choking him and given him fresh air, he had welcomed Keith back from a frozen world with warm, open arms, and he had been the one who looked Keith dead in the eye and said _you already have a family_. He had been with Keith through the craziest year and hadn’t even hesitated to turn it into the brightest, warmest, kindest time of Keith’s life. But, more than anything else, he had given Keith the faith to tack a “yet” onto the end of that.  
  
“Oh, yeah!” Said Lance airily, squeezing Keith’s hand and shrugging. “No big deal; that’s what family does. Apparently, Shiro and Adam threatened her into promising that she wouldn’t hurt you!”  
  
“They would,” replied Keith with a laugh, tightening his hold on Lance’s hand and locking their gazes again, lips twitching. “But Shiro and Adam weren’t the ones who ‘showed her she was wrong’ and that she ‘should have asked for help’ and not ‘given up so easily’.”  
  
Lance giggled at Keith’s exaggerated air quotes and began doodling patterns on the back of Keith’s hand. Keith’s smile slowly widened. “So, thank you, Lance. If she hadn’t said that…it would have been a lot harder to let her in, you know?”  
  
Lance’s patterns slowed, light brushes across his skin, and Keith twisted his hand over. He intertwined their fingers and held on tight.  
  
“She had to know what she did wrong. If she didn’t, she’d do it again,” Keith gulped, drowning in Lance’s everlastingly blue stare; it was like floating endlessly through the desert summer sky. “But you made sure she wouldn’t leave again. I’m—I’m not scared of this anymore because of you.”  
  
Lance’s cheeks were dusted a sweet cherry red, and if it weren’t for Keith’s hand over his, he probably would have ducked his head long ago and laughed off the gratitude. Instead, he swallowed and let a small, sweet smile curve across his lips.  
  
“Hey, thanks, Kei—”  
  
“Lance,” interrupted Keith, the words rushing out of his mouth like a brook just freed from the ice of winter and basking in the warmth of spring. “It’s—it’s more than that. I mean, I’m not scared anymore, so I can finally……hhhhhh.”  
  
Lance waited, that small flowering smile still blooming across his lips and his fingers gentle around Keith’s. He would probably wait forever for Keith to finish this sentence if he had to. Keith blew out a breath, laughing quietly, and leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Lance’s tenderly. He knew Lance would wait for him. But that didn’t mean he would take forever; Lance’s time was too valuable for that.  
  
“I didn’t think love was something that could stay,” he admitted. “I was so sure that everyone was going to leave me again one day.”  
  
“I know,” murmured Lance, nuzzling his forehead against Keith’s. “I know.”  
  
Keith’s heart gave a resounding thump, and he seized all the reckless courage he had inside him. There was so much warmth, so much kindness, so much love inside this beautiful boy in front of him, and Keith knew that better than anyone else. If there was anyone who deserved to know how much that meant, it was him.  
  
“You are the reason I believe love can survive,” he whispered. “You are the reason I believe love can win. It—it can win in my life, same as everyone else’s. Thank you, Lance. Thank you.”  
  
Lance swallowed weakly, enfolding Keith’s other hand in his own and squeezing his eyes shut to hide the sheen behind them. He swallowed again.  
  
“Keith,” he breathed. “That was your choice. You decided to believe again; that’s all your power. Your strength.”  
  
“I know,” replied Keith, cupping his face with one hand and tapping their noses lightly. “But you gave me that strength. I made it my own, sure, but I couldn’t have done this without you. Now, shut up and take the compliment.”  
  
“Wow, pushy,” teased Lance, the faintest trace of tears in his words, and Keith just grinned.  
  
“I’ve always been like that.”  
  
“Oh, I know,” huffed Lance, and Keith sniggered.  
  
Then Lance snorted out a laugh, and Keith threw back his head to laugh long and hard, and Lance fell forwards grabbing his stomach as his chuckles spiralled into full-on laughter. They both stayed like that for a long time, shrieking with laughter as tears came into their eyes and their stomachs ached and, at one point, Keith started hiccuping. Then they laughed harder, and Black finally joined in when Lance tumbled off the chair and just lay on the ground, laughing.  
  
Keith couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like this. They laughed until the world melted away, until the universe around them seemed to vanish, until their demons were chased away by the pure joy, until every last lingering doubt was dissolved, until the laughter itself seemed like a golden thing with them in that cabin. They laughed until they couldn’t breathe, until Lance was smacking the floor and Keith was crying, and then they looked at one another and found every last giggle left in their bodies. Black began to shake with chuckles.  
  
“Dios mios!” Managed Lance, laughter still clinging to every word. “I don’t even know why—!”  
  
“Because we can!” Replied Keith, his cheeks aching and stomach wondering if Black had accidentally crushed it somehow. “Because we finally can!”  
  
By the time Lance finally hauled himself back into his chair and Keith stopped wincing whenever he tried to straighten up, Black was cheerfully menacing in reporting that half a varga had passed.  
  
“Okay,” sighed Lance warmly, leaning back into his chair and flashing a grin at Keith. “Now, what did you do that involved actually brushed hair, Samurai? Other than laughing it into a mess, that is.”  
  
Keith snorted and offered his hand to Lance, who didn’t even hesitate to interlace their fingers and rest them atop the joystick. Keith willed his blush to not make it all the way up to his ears.  
  
“Well, I mean, it’s part of the mind-melding,” he murmured. “Black? You set?”  
  
_“I have been waiting for the past half varga and you now ask if I am prepared to do the actual activity I called you both here for?”_  
  
“Hey, you were laughing too!” Pointed out Lance, and Black seemed to do the Lion equivalent of drawing oneself up with great dignity.  
  
_“I was indulging your mindless and seemingly painful activity, human. Nothing more.”_  
  
“Sure,” drawled Lance with a wink at Keith. “Just keep telling yourself that.”  
  
_“Hush.”_  
  
Keith snickered, winced, and Lance did the exact same thing at Keith’s reaction. Black did a cosmic eyebrow raise and, without any preamble, dumped their minds on top of one another’s and huffed off.  
  
Keith yelped as Lance’s thoughts and emotions, so soft and so blinding at the same time, fell atop his, and tried to brace his mind too late. Lance’s light show came tumbling in, curving automatically to make room for Keith and letting the two sets of spiraling love fill in around one another like puzzle pieces slotting together. Like the sun and the moon curling around one another until no one knew what light belonged to which.  
  
Lance stepped beside Keith, both sets of eyes mired in the sparkling pillars of lights surrounding them, the colors flashing too quickly for them to really make any out. A bit of black, a streak of red, a flash of blue, a dimple of pink, a euphony of everything that made them who they were.  
  
Lance exhaled slowly at the same time that Keith inhaled, and the two’s hands met halfway.  
  
“We _are_ a good team,” whispered Lance.  
  
“Yeah,” replied Keith softly. “Yeah, we really are.”  
  
And then, for just one tick, all the lights flashed a soft, lovely lilac, melting into a deep, rich huckleberry right before their eyes. It smelled like lavenders.  
  
It was gone in a flash of white, leaving both paladins staring out at the ocean still rippling with the force of the lights. They stayed like that, unmoving, for a dobash.  
  
“Whoa,” breathed Keith.  
  
“Yeah,” whispered Lance. “Wow. Like…wow.”  
  
He squeezed Keith’s hand and flashed a sunshine smile at him that completely outdid the entire light show they had just seen and nearly bowled Keith over. “That was pretty amazing!”  
  
The grin was glowing from Keith before he even noticed, and he turned to face Lance properly.  
  
“Yeah. It really was.”  
  
The sand shifted beneath their feet, the wind whirling around the two boys, and Keith glanced at the sky with a smirk. “But I still have my surprise for you.”  
  
Lance had always thought the phrase “his jaw dropped” was an exaggeration, no one actually did that, but he now had very clear evidence to the contrary. Because his jaw had just dropped.  
  
“That light show wasn’t enough of one?”  
  
“That wasn’t planned!”  
  
“What?!”  
  
Keith laughed, letting go of Lance’s hands and stepping back, his smile lighting up the world around Lance like a newborn star.  
  
“It wasn’t,” insisted Keith, turning a palm towards the sky and closing his eyes with a satisfied exhale. “_This_ was.”  
  
Lance blinked. He glanced at the cloudy sky (didn’t they usually have sunshine?) and waited. Nothing happened. He waited another dobash. Still nothing happened.  
  
Lance opened his mouth to ask what on Altea Keith was talking about, and possibly to check if the light show had messed with his brain, when a drop of water fell onto his head.  
  
All his breath vanished.  
  
Lance jerked his eyes towards the sky, chest seizing and eyes burning as the rain cascaded down around him, cold and sweet as he remembered, sparkling like sapphires at dawn. His tears melted into them. Lance threw his arms wide open and tipped his head back to become fully drenched in the droplets, laughter dancing from his lips and glowing in his eyes. Keith beamed.  
  
“Black taught me how to change our mindscape,” he explained softly. “I wanted to show you the rain again.”  
  
Lance let out a breathless laugh and spun, raindrops flying around him and the soft music of puddles splashing through the park that had materialized in place of the beach around them.  
  
“Keith,” breathed Lance, like his name was something valuable, something to be treasured, something to be loved.  
  
Or maybe like the person behind it was.  
  
“Keith!”  
  
Hands clasped Keith’s sides in a grip that was unmistakably _Lance_—powerful and unwavering, but gentle in its relentless hold, careful not to hurt the ones he loved and fought for—and Keith was swept off his feet.  
  
“Lance!” Shrieked Keith, grabbing his friend’s shoulders as he was spun in circles, the rain dancing around them and flying off their hair and clothes in fluttering patterns that glistened beautifully before melting into the ground.  
  
And Keith smiled because he could say now, for sure, that they were not like those patterns. They were not temporary. He believed in Lance. He believed in them.  
  
“Keith!” Cheered Lance, spinning on light, sure feet and laughing more warmly than any sun. “Keith, this is amazing! Gracias! Muchísimas gracias! Thank you _so, so much!_”  
  
Keith laughed, ignoring the twinge of pain in his stomach and giving himself up to the joy radiating off his friend. This was more than worth the teasing Black had lavished on him while he was crafting this mindscape. So, so, so _very_ worth it.  
  
“This is the best. There’s no place I’d rather be,” said Lance softly.  
  
Keith’s feet twirled back to the ground, and he pushed Lance’s dripping hair away from his eyes, smiling more warmly than he knew he could.  
  
“Thanks, Lance,” he whispered. “For bringing love back into my life.”  
  
“Geez, Keith,” muttered Lance, a giggle bubbling through his words. “Did you plan that one?”  
  
“Yes, what of it?” Growled Keith, but Lance just laughed again and dropped his forehead against Keith’s.  
  
“Thank you,” he whispered. “For all this and more. You brought a home back into my life.”  
  
The two stood there for a long moment, the rain pattering sweetly against the trees and ground, bouncing off their heads and melting into their jackets.  
  
“How did you come up with something that sappy on the fly?” Complained Keith, and Lance snickered, tapping his nose against his partner’s and nearly turning the rain into steam from both of their blushes.  
  
“I’m just that slick, Keith! Try and keep up!”  
  
Keith rolled his eyes, studying the glossy leaves around them and air thick with both rain and joy. So much joy.  
  
“So, what next?” He asked. “We’ve got a while until we have to get to breakfast.”  
  
“Ohohohohoho!” Declared Lance, and Keith immediately regretted the decision to phrase that as a question. “There is only one thing to do with the beautiful Lanceylance and his intrepid partner Mulletman!”  
  
“Lance, I swear,” groaned Keith, but Lance just kept laughing and dragged Keith’s hand to his waist.  
  
He placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder, and Keith instinctively caught at his free hand, their fingers tangling together. Lance grinned.  
  
“You know how to slow dance, Mullet?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Lance just raised an eyebrow, still beaming.  
  
“I think you know why!”  
  
Keith snorted, taking a step forward and humming quietly to give them at least something to keep a rhythm. Lance’s face lit up, his own voice finding the song somehow, and Keith’s heart stuttered as they sang their own quiet little symphony. Their steps were quick and steady, their turns sending water splashing in wide arcs, and the sun burst through the clouds even as the rain poured down in a glittering storm. Keith raised his arm, and Lance twirled beneath it, lifting his arm to create the same bridge for Keith to spin under. Their shoes were soaked, Keith nearly slipped three times, Lance got slapped in the face with water whenever Keith twirled, and both of their hands were drenched around one another.  
  
But they were laughing and singing and teasing and complaining and smiling the entire time, their dance gliding through the rain like a singing promise of everything they had been, everything they were, and everything they would become. And they would do it all together. They were Lance and Keith, neck and neck, after all.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buenos días, hermosa=Good morning, beautiful
> 
> I own nothing!


	11. One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes, I know, you hate this,” he whispered with a quiet chuckle, shutting off his translator so their allies couldn’t understand them. “But hey, you’re doing great!”  
  
“I feel like an elephant,” growled Keith, his own translator flashing off as he plopped down next to Lance. “An elephant in some spiderweb.”  


“We need to pitt as many of the battleships as possible against Voltron,” stated Keith, dragging the holographic Voltron to the center of the map and scowling at the fleet of battleships lined up in front of it. “Blade ships aren’t equipped to handle them, and Voltron is used to this by now.”  
  
“The Empire’s ships are, though,” pointed out Acxa, gesturing to the battalion of ships behind Keith. “We should spearhead and have Voltron take out only the necessary battleships; it sends a strong political message of superiority.”  
  
Keith bristled, and Lance winced; nothing got under Keith’s skin more than politics affecting battle plans. That was one of the reasons they had split the meetings into two divisions once Lotor’s other generals arrived; one would handle the best battle plans and the other would find a political compromise to help them achieve that. Keith, Zethrid, and Krolia were the Battlefield Division while Romelle (who was apparently a temporary diplomat for the Blade as well), Allura, and Acxa became the Diplomatic Division. Lance and Ezor, aside from reminiscing over nearly killing one another alongside their loves, acted as the ambassadors between the, well, ambassadors. Which was exactly why Lance was trying to keep Keith and Acxa from getting into a fistfight right now, but Zethrid was really not helping!  
  
“The Empire ships are the same as the rebels,” she countered. “They know our weaknesses, and yeah, we know theirs, but that just means mutual annihilation!”  
  
“Voltron will minimize casualties and make this a lot faster,” decided Keith. “We need to put lives ahead of reputation.”  
  
Acxa scowled, Keith crossed his arms, and Lance groaned.  
  
“Okay, everyone, cool down,” he said, standing and snapping everyone’s glares onto him immediately. “Keith’s right.”  
  
“Indeed,” stated Allura, standing as Acxa began to growl quietly. “I understand the political ramifications of this, General Acxa. I believe it sends a very strong message of allegiance between Voltron and the Galra Empire, a message that is sorely needed at this time.”  
  
Lance thanked every deity that Allura and Acxa had taken notes from Ezor and Zethrid on how to not being their old stuttering messes around Keith, who would have skewered them in two dobashes. As it stood, he could practically feel the itch beneath Keith’s skin, the deep frustration of trying to juggle alliances and tactics, the fear of messing up and letting everyone down. He chuckled, patting the seat next to him, and Keith humphed his way over.  
  
“Yes, I know, you hate this,” he whispered with a quiet chuckle, shutting off his translator so their allies couldn’t understand them. “But hey, you’re doing great!”  
  
“I feel like an elephant,” growled Keith, his own translator flashing off as he plopped down next to Lance. “An elephant in some spiderweb.”  
  
“Ooh, nice metaphor!”  
  
Keith shot Lance a glare, but the taller boy just kept talking. “But you’re getting to the heart of things, so we’re actually moving a lot faster than usual.”  
  
“What, butting heads is fast?”  
  
Lance grinned, sifting through the papers in front of him and ignoring the decidedly impish look Ezor was giving the two of them.  
  
“It’s productive,” he corrected. “We’re actually resolving stuff instead of just preparing. Having someone decisive can really help with that.”  
  
He shot Keith a wink, and the older boy grumbled something unintelligible, the tips of his ears a faint red. Lance hoped he wasn’t getting sick from overwork; they had been at this for two movements already and everyone was becoming fried. The raids had mercifully minimized, allowing Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro to manage them without dragging their leaders out of the vargas-long planning meetings. Still, Keith hadn’t had time to do much other than preparations, and Lance knew he was much more of an action man than a tactical planner. It was fraying at Keith’s nerves.  
  
“Lance, hey,” soothed Keith, pressing a few fingers to his partner’s forehead and smoothing out the concerned wrinkles. “I’m fine. You know it’s just frustrating.”  
  
“Makes you want to go all Red Paladin on them, right?”  
  
Keith snickered and bumped his shoulder to Lance’s, standing and heading back over to the Battlefield Division’s map with a warm smile and small wave. Lance returned the gesture, wondering how long it would take for Keith to remember to turn his translator back on.  
  
“You and your boyfriend are cute!” Commented Ezor immediately, beaming. “I mean, no clue what you said, but the way you look at each other is adorable!”  
  
Lance whipped his head away, practically feeling the red creeping up his neck as Ezor tilted her head behind him.  
  
“Keith’s not my boyfriend,” he muttered.  
  
“What?! Then what are you doing? Hurry it up!” Cried Ezor so loudly that Zethrid twisted her head to make sure her girlfriend was okay.  
  
Ezor blew her a kiss, which Zethrid caught and returned. Allura and Acxa blushed in unison, and Keith hid his face behind a book. Lance just dropped his face into his hands and groaned.  
  
“Ez, not so loud,” he pleaded. “He’s literally right there!”  
  
“Oh, sorry,” replied Ezor, rubbing the back of her head without the slightest bit of remorse on her face. “But seriously, it took me, like, two phoebs to ask Zeth out! And even we don’t give each other that look!”  
  
“What look?” Grumbled Lance, pulling his file across the table and trying to arrange the papers by major points of inte—  
  
“The _I’d-tear-apart-space-and-time-to-protect-your-smile_ look!” Declared Ezor, and Lance thanked Altea he’d already drained his water because he nearly did a spit-take at that.  
  
“We do not have that look!” He protested, butterflies nearly choking him and cheeks feeling like two hot embers.  
  
Ezor groaned dramatically and slapped her own file to her forehead. Lance willed the blush to _leave his cheeks alone_ and began stacking papers more vigorously than strictly necessary. Yes, he was in love with Keith, he had known that for a while! All the stardust that made up his body felt like one big constellation of his love for the mulleted, impulsive, sweet, loyal, brave boy who had trusted him, thanked him, and brought the rain back to him. Lance hadn’t known it was even possible to love someone this much, to feel it pulsing in every one of his movements through the day, to end up grinning like an idiot just thinking about Keith, to go to sleep giddy about his smiles and wake up excited to see more of them. He had no clue his heart could feel so safe and so ready to burst and so powerful, so filled with love, all at the same time.  
  
“Yep, there’s that look,” groaned Ezor, pressing a wad of wax onto the pages to bind them.  
  
Lance opened his mouth. He closed it. Then he opened it again, Ezor watching expectantly. Lance blushed volcano red and dove back into his work, valiantly ignoring Ezor sighing agonizingly beside him, but not doing quite as good a job at ignoring Keith tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

  


“Thank you all for your work today,” finally announced Allura as the castle clock chimed two in the morning. “I believe we managed to complete everything we needed to.”  
  
“Good,” groaned Zethrid, drawing out the oo from where she was facedown on the table. “I think my brain’s dead.”  
  
Keith was practically draped over the back of his chair, and Lance had spied Krolia nodding off more than a few times in the last varga. Romelle was flat-out asleep on the diplomat’s table, Acxa was rubbing at her eyes woozily, and even Allura’s usually precise posture was slumping slightly. Ezor had passed out a good half varga ago and was tucked in the corner with a blanket around her shoulders, snoring contentedly. Lance massaged his temples and blew out a long, slow, concentrated stream of air.  
  
He felt like someone had put his brain through the blender.  
  
“Allura,” called Keith, not moving from his flopped position, “are you guys going tomorrow or the quintant after?”  
  
“Tomorrow,” she replied blearily, stifling a yawn and trying to yank a smile onto her face. “It is a half a quintant’s travel, and we will come back the instant the meeting has concluded. I imagine we will only be slightly late for the meeting the following quintant.”  
  
“And dead on your feet,” muttered Keith, eyebrows furrowed at Lance’s continued massage.  
  
“We’ll be fine,” assured Allura. “We will need you all to run the meeting that quintant and be fully prepared for any sort of alterations. Due to the fragile nature of these potential allies, we might not be able to respond to any communications until we have finished, so we will warn you when we have begun and when it has concluded. Thank you for your patience everyone, and good night.”  
  
“Good night,” chorused the room, though Romelle just snored loudly and Ezor grunted in her sleep.  
  
Zethrid snickered and stood, sweeping Ezor into her arms and cradling her carefully as they slipped from the room. Krolia pulled Romelle into a piggyback ride and tousled Keith’s hair carefully, as if scared of using too much force, before leaving for her ship. Acxa and Allura slid their arms through each other’s (though Lance was pretty sure this was less about flirting and more about staying upright at this point), limping from the room with wavering smiles.  
  
Keith was at Lance’s side in an instant, kneeling and taking hold of Lance’s wrists gently, his fingertips leaving trails of fire against Lance’s skin.  
  
“Lance,” he whispered. “Are you okay? Another migraine?”  
  
Lance shook his head halfheartedly, a gentle smile spreading across his face as he reached out and smoothed the concerned wrinkles on his love’s forehead.  
  
“No, not a migraine. I’d have told you if it was,” he promised. “I’m just stiff. And tired. Same as you. Allura and I have been up late doing prep work for this meeting in case we got it.”  
  
Keith scowled, rubbing circles into Lance’s wrists and keeping his eyes fixed carefully on Lance’s as they both stood.  
  
“How much sleep have you gotten?” He grumbled, the slight clink of their paladin armor the only sounds as they trudged to the door. “You and I are already going to be up in two vargas.”  
  
“Last night? Um……” hummed Lance, fingers tapping his chin. “None? I kept thinking we were done researching, but then we always found some new dead-end, and I finally just forced her to put the book down and go to bed. Then Black started calling, so…”  
  
Lance trailed off with a shrug, and Keith’s scowl darkened.  
  
“You two were up until three in the morning?”  
  
Lance waved a hand dismissively, his eyes lingering on the kitchen as they passed it.  
  
“Nah,” he promised. “We were up until two. It’s always taken me forever to get to sleep, so by the time I was nodding off, it was three.”  
  
Keith hummed; he had a similar problem when he was in the desert shack. Every draft of wind sounded like a rattlesnake sneaking in, every hiss of the plumbing was a rabid rat, and every creak was a burglar.  
  
“Music?” He suggested, pulling a bar from his pocket and passing it to Lance. “Pidge rigged some up for me when I couldn’t sleep.”  
  
“Mine got a virus, so Pidge is de-bugifying it. Thanks,” he added, taking the fake pomegranate-and-chocolate bar and breaking it in half. “Here.”  
  
“Thanks,” murmured Keith, a smile creeping across his lips as Lance passed him the larger portion. “There’s a book I’ve been meaning to finish, and reading aloud always puts me to sleep really quickly. You want to bring your pillow over?”  
  
It wouldn’t be the first time they had passed out together, Shiro knew they had a tendency to fall asleep in the command room coming up with strategies and family bonding activities. This was just a continuation of that, but in a comfier setting. Or, at least, that’s what Keith desperately screamed inside his head to make his thundering heart _shut the quiznak up!_  
  
“Really? You don’t mind?” Squealed Lance, yawning immediately afterwards, and Keith guffawed.  
  
He always forgot how cute Lance’s nose was when it scrunched with a yawn, how his shoulders rolled back slightly with a faint pop, how he raised a fist to try and hide the action. It made his heart calm slightly, relaxing into the feeling of being in love. Of having someone he loved so completely, so wholly, like he could see the entire universe in Lance’s eyes alone. He wasn’t scared of this love anymore.  
  
“Obviously,” scoffed Keith fondly, bumping his shoulder against Lance’s and grinning. “Just bring an extra sheet, my blanket is mine.”  
  
“Blanket hog,” snorted Lance, nudging Keith’s shoulder in return and yawning again. “‘Kay, I’ll change and join you.”  
  
“Yeah, see you,” replied Keith, ducking into his room and letting Lance pass.  
  
He snatched the thin, ornately covered book from his nightstand and changed into his Altean pajamas, brushing his teeth in between yawns. Lance was probably going to want the side of the bed closer to the wall; he liked that kind of security, and Keith preferred the outer side so he could skewer anyone who came too close during the night. He carefully moved his Lion slippers under the bed so they wouldn’t get mixed up with Lance’s, and set the lights to Evening mode just as Lance stuck his head in.  
  
“Hi,” he called, yawning around the word and swaying like he was on a boat. “Brought my blanket.”  
  
Keith let out a quiet laugh, catching Lance’s worn hand and tugging him over to the bed. It took them approximately five dobashes to become fully settled, with Lance fluffing his pillow and promptly forgetting it when Keith snuggled in beside him. Then he just stole Keith’s shoulder, insisting on tucking his blanket around them both like a cape.  
  
Keith pouted.  
  
“You should use your blanket.”  
  
“We’ll just share both,” replied Lance, snuggling into Keith’s shoulder with a yawn that stretched tears into his eyes. “Come on, Mullet. Sleeeeeeep.”  
  
Keith rolled his eyes fondly, leaning against the back of the bed and tossing half of his blanket over Lance’s legs.  
  
“It’s a long story,” he warned Lance.  
  
“Then I’ll make you finish it later,” grumped Lance, pawing at the cover limply. “Reeeeeead.”  
  
“Okay, okay,” huffed Keith, leaning his cheek on Lance’s head and beginning to read. “You won’t believe what the mists of Verol hide. From magic that glows only to the purple ones…” He had to pause and double-check to make sure he had read that right, “to forests of everblooms and monsters that hunt on moonshine. Venture carefully, traveler. Keep your thoughts buried for only yourself, don’t give yourself away carelessly. But don’t be afraid of it; you will only chase away what could be.”  
  
“Sounds like love,” murmured Lance with a quirk of the lips. “Dangerous and unpredictable, but also beautiful and magical.”  
  
“…Lance, that’s literally what is says in two sentences.”  
  
“What can I say? I’m just that brilliant!” Boasted Lance, snuggling further in and stifling another yawn. “Keep reading, you’re good.”  
  
Keith started up again, trying to read slowly so he wouldn’t have to stutter, go back, or repeat himself too much, but it honestly didn’t help that much. He wasn’t used to reading aloud, and he _wasn’t_ actually very good at it; it just helped put him to sleep. He made it through probably a page before pausing, trying three times to make out one word, and after a couple of attempts, just giving up and moving on. Lance giggled.  
  
“That one’s a pain, huh?”  
  
“No kidding,” grumbled Keith, flipping the page and stealing a glance at his companion.  
  
Lance was curled around his side, his breathing steady and eyes closed, his hand just a few inches away from Keith’s. He would probably be out in a dobash tops. Keith blew out a breath, rested the book at a comfortable angle, and slid his hand into Lance’s. Then he began to read again.

  


“Stop doing that!” Snapped Keith, closing the book after half a varga of reading and glaring at Lance. “You keep relaxing and then jerking yourself awake. Are you okay?”  
  
Lance’s lips twitched into a pout and he nestled impossibly closer to Keith. He nodded slowly.  
  
“Really?” Asked Keith, brushing his fingers through Lance’s hair carefully. “Lance, come on. What’s happening in that head of yours?”  
  
“Aww, you know I have a brain.”  
  
“Lance,” complained Keith, and the taller boy snickered. “What’s going on? You know you need to sleep; you have that mission tomorrow. Why aren’t you sleeping?”  
  
Lance’s smile shifted, condensing into a scowl, and he slid down Keith’s side as if deflating.  
  
“…It’s finally peaceful,” he muttered. “When I wake up, it won’t be. So I want to be relaxed as long as I can.”  
  
Keith winced. He had done the same thing at the Blade of Marmora, calling the others and staying up as late as he could to carve out a little pocket of joy in an otherwise freezing world. And yeah, it meant starting the next day more drained physically, but it also gave him a much-needed emotional recharge. It helped him cling onto the elements of himself that made him Keith Kogane. Everyone needed a bit of sunshine in their life.  
  
“The mission?” He guessed, smoothing Lance’s hair down and feeling the slight twitch pass through the fluffy strands. “You and Allura seem really scared.”  
  
“Well,” huffed Lance, burying his face in Keith’s shoulder, “we have a right to be! No one’s ever succeeded in this before, Keith! No one! And I know I told Allura that Voltron always does the impossible, but still! That’s fighting, this is politics! We can’t exactly point Voltron at these guys and order them to join the Coalition in our best Mechanical Robot Dictator Voice!”  
  
Keith snickered, letting the book fall closed so he could slip his fingers through Lance’s and tug him a bit closer.  
  
“Yeah, don’t go titan on them,” he suggested teasingly, his voice turning soft as he squeezed Lance’s hand. “I’m not worried. You’re our Sharpshooter; you never miss on anything, right?”  
  
Lance hesitated, his nose brushing against Keith’s shoulder and fingers loosening around Keith’s long, pale ones. Keith tilted his head to the side, studying the way the room’s shadows dipped in and out of Lance’s eyes, always chased out by the sunshine and bright blue sky they seemed to hold just by existing.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Then you won’t miss your mark this time either,” declared Keith, poking Lance’s ribs and eliciting a squeak of giggling protest. “Now go to sleep, Kelphead.”  
  
“Will you ever drop that one?” Grumbled Lance, pulling Keith’s hand into his lap and settling back down for cuddles.  
  
“You have Mullet, I have Kelphead,” retorted Keith with a slight smile, leaning against Lance again and cracking open the book. “I’ve got to keep up with you, after all.”  
  
Lance’s cheeks barely had time to flush red, Keith was already reading and the lights were becoming even dimmer. The warmth of the blankets were pulsating through Lance’s bones, and Keith was rubbing soothing patterns into the back of his hand and yawning every other sentence. Lance’s eyes fluttered, the blue flashing with brown, and he noticed vaguely that Keith’s mouth seemed to quirk up at that.  
  
Lance smiled, letting his eyes fall closed and trusting in the happiness he would be able to find with Keith tomorrow. He believed in what they would find.  
  
He was out within ticks.

  


Keith stretched, popping his shoulders with heavy CRACKS as Lance hefted his travel bag over his shoulder.  
  
“Allura and Red are all set,” he declared, adjusting his black helmet and sneaking a smile at Keith. “I’m trusting you not to shank anyone while I’m out.”  
  
Keith scoffed, folding his arms and smirking at the light glimmering in Lance’s eyes.  
  
“Wow, such a vote of confidence.”  
  
Lance giggled, flicking on his communicator and setting up the line between him and Allura. Keith swallowed, the movement just a bit rougher than usual, and Lance’s smile widened.  
  
“I’ll come back, Mullet,” he promised, reaching out carefully to squeeze Keith’s hand. “I told you I’d always come back to you, didn’t I?”  
  
Keith held perfectly still, iris eyes fastened on Lance’s sky-blue ones, and Lance relaxed. He knew that look. He wanted to say it then, wanted to open his mouth and let it all pour out because Keith was _holding his breath._ He was staring at Lance and holding his breath and believing unconditionally, after all the abandonment he had faced, that Lance would come back to him. He believed Lance would be there for him.  
  
That wasn’t what Lance wanted him to believe. Well, yes, that was a portion of it, but it shouldn’t end there. He wanted Keith to believe that Lance would fly the universe over and back again to make him smile, that he would make Keith breakfasts every morning and tuck him in every night if that’s what Keith wanted, that he would do everything in and beyond his power every single day to make Keith happy. He wanted Keith to believe that Lance loved him. He loved him on his bad days as much as his good days, and he couldn’t imagine his life without Keith in it. No matter how he looked at it, loving Keith was part of who he was now. It wasn’t ever going to change.  
  
Good thing he didn’t want it to.  
  
“I’ll save you a plate,” promised Keith, squeezing Lance’s hand and drawing him back to reality. “Hunk promised to try that space brownie recipe again tonight.”  
  
“Yeah!” Squeaked Lance, a blush surging up his neck and reflecting off the light of the cabin. “Thanks, man!”  
  
Really, brain?  
  
Lance swallowed, Allura’s voice in his ear telling him that they had to leave soon, but—he couldn’t not—he had to—he still wanted—  
  
Lance tugged Keith’s hand forward, reaching an arm across Keith’s back, and pulled his partner into a hug.  
  
“…I don’t think Pidge’ll have fixed my music when I get back.”  
  
Lance could feel Keith’s smile on his shoulder, and a hand pressed against his back gently.  
  
“The book’s not done.”  
  
“Good,” whispered Lance, the beginnings of an idea forming in his head. “…Next time, I’ll build a blanket fort. The best you’ve ever seen.”  
  
Keith full-on laughed at that, squeezing Lance and burying his nose in the taller boy’s shoulder with a giggle.  
  
“I look forward to it,” he promised. “Go get ‘em, Sharpshooter.”  
  
Lance would. And when he came back, he would tell Keith what he wanted to right now. He would tell him how much he loved him. He wouldn’t run away this time, no matter what.  
  
“Hold down the fort till I finish up, Samurai.”  
  
Keith deserved this chance at happiness, and so did Lance. They deserved to have a chance to make each other happy.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	12. I Trust You…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance squawked indignantly, and Allura threw her head back with a peal of laughter again. “Lance,” she snorted (which was new, Lance was proud of himself for that one), “you are just now choosing to make official what we have all known for phoebs!”

“Alluraaaaa,” whined Lance as the Altean laughed mercilessly in the pilot’s seat, “stop it, this is serious!”  
  
“Lance,” Allura managed to choke out amidst the giggle storm, “the fact that you believe it to be serious is what is so hilarious!”  
  
Lance squawked indignantly, and Allura threw her head back with a peal of laughter again. “Lance,” she snorted (which was new, Lance was proud of himself for that one), “you are just now choosing to make official what we have all known for phoebs!”  
  
“You all just decided that we were a couple,” protested Lance indignantly, his ears glowing a faint red. “I still don’t know if he loves me back! Telling him could totally mess with our dynamics in Black if he doesn’t!”  
  
“You are making yourself afraid,” warned Allura, sighing quietly as the Black Paladin slumped forwards until he was nearly folded in half.  
  
Since Lance couldn’t pilot Black by himself, they had decided to just take Red this time. This meant Lance could either cling to Allura’s chair, hide in the back sleeping quarters of the Lion, or scrabble at the floor of Red. He had chosen the first option, mainly to ask for help with confessing to Keith. She had subsequently spent the last five dobashes in stitches.  
  
Allura turned, a slight smile on her lips as her crystalline eyes locked with Lance’s, and one of her hands reached out to cover his.  
  
“Lance,” she said, but it seemed more like a command when she switched fully into Spanish. “You and Keith are a good team. You have always been on the same page with arguing, teamwork, and Voltron. I see no reason why that would not be the case with romance as well.”  
  
“That’s not how this works,” grumbled Lance, jerking at his fingers and screwing up his mouth. “I don’t want to wreck what we have. That’s why I haven’t said anything up until now.”  
  
Allura just shook her head, turning back to the front with one of those exaggerated sighs Lance had taught her.  
  
“Just set up a good confession setting,” she advised, “and watch his reactions. See if he is interested, and decide based on that.”  
  
Keith was interested, Allura was completely positive of that and had been for over half a decaphoeb now. She had also been failing to convince Lance of that for nearly the same amount of time, and was sorely tempted to lock them in a room together and refuse to let them out until one of them confessed.  
  
Pidge was already preparing a code in case Allura went through with it.  
  
“‘Lura?” Asked Lance in Altean, peering over her shoulder. “You good over there?”  
  
“Yes,” replied Allura with a swift smile at her friend. “I am quite well. Simply exhausted by the length of your unofficial courting.”  
  
“Oh, this from you!” Scoffed Lance. “At least Keith and I can function in the same room! You and Acxa, on the other hand—!”  
  
“We are not courting!” Declared Allura, and Lance shrieked with laughter over her continued protests.  
  
Red hummed in amusement, and Allura sputtered indignantly at her Lion. “Red, not you too!”  
  
Lance giggled.  
  
“I had to deal with both her and Blue yelling at me to kiss Keith,” he declared, hands going to his hips and chin raised. “Now you shall suffer as well!”  
  
“Oh dear,” deadpanned Allura. “When catapulting towards a civilization I know precisely nothing about and which has the highest possibility of killing us that I have seen in several phoebs, my biggest concern must surely be my robotic sentient Lion believing I should be dating a Galran general.”  
  
Lance stuck his tongue out.  
  
“Hey, at least they probably won’t be throwing food across the table with _four sets of arms!_” He replied, and Allura’s face immediately twisted into a disgusted grimace that sent Lance into another fit of laughter.  
  
That meeting had been _awful_; the leader was maybe four years old, and had a tantrum partway through the conference about their food being too cold. Not a dish remained unturned as the nursemaids tried to calm him, and Allura and Lance just stared at one another out of the corner of their eyes as if saying _who wants to try and reason with this toddler?_ In the end, Lance had managed to talk him down, and although they walked out with all the points they wanted on the treaty, neither were eager to venture back inside that particular planet. Ever. Again.  
  
“You know, I wouldn’t still find it so funny if you didn’t make that face every time!” Snorted Lance, wiping tears out of his eyes as Allura scrunched up her nose irritably.  
  
“It was highly undignified” She protested over Lance’s snickers. “Four or not, he was the leader of his people! It was a formal meeting!”  
  
“Allura, you literally hid behind a column in your father’s meeting room and poked silly faces out to make the diplomats lose their composure!” Replied Lance, cheeks nearly splitting as his friend spluttered indignantly.  
  
“I was three at the time!”  
  
“Mmmmmm, Coran says otherwise~”  
  
“Coran!” Complained Allura as if her voice would carry back to the Castle of Lions where Coran was trying to update the system’s defenses.  
  
Lance nearly tumbled to the floor, clutching his stomach as he shrieked with laughter, and Allura would have been more cross if it weren’t for the fact that she was giggling too. His laughter was infectious. Plus, the two braids winding atop her usual waves were pinned in the back with the pink beaded barrette he had gotten a few phoebs ago from a village after getting locked out of his Lion. Allura had cooed over it for approximately ten dobashes before teasing Lance endlessly about how sweet he was to think of her on his date with Keith, which left her grasping her sides with laughter as he shrieked and spluttered out protests that he was not dating Keith!  
  
“Allura, you’re smirking and it’s making me scared for my life,” called Lance from the floor, smile leaking into his voice, and the Red Paladin just widened her grin in response.  
  
“I was merely wondering if all your bonding moments were limited to romantic interests or if I should be prepared to have one with you soon,” she replied with grave dignity, if grave dignity involved biting your lip to keep from dissolving into a fit of giggles.  
  
Lance spluttered indignantly, his face immediately matching the lighting in the Lion, and Allura gave in to the desire to throw back her head and let out a full laugh. “Lance, if you have already decided to confess, then I shall plague you until you succeed!”  
  
“He—I—you—Allura!” Sputtered Lance. “That’s it! The tick we get back, I’m locking you and Acxa in the training room with romance music!”  
  
Allura sat up primly and raised her chin in challenge.  
  
“I certainly look forward to that, Lance.”  
  
The two remained motionless for about three ticks before they both burst into ringing laughter. They were going as fast as they could towards this planet, this meeting, this diplomatic confrontation that made both of their stomachs plunge straight through their feet and out into space, so they filled the terrifying silence with jokes (“Lance, you are not a drama queen, you are a goddess”), stories (“And then she tried to dump nail polish all over my head! It was _yellow nail polish_ and I was wearing _white pants!_ Stop laughing, Allura, it was nearly a fashion disaster!”), laughter (so much they had to both lay down for a solid dobash before resuming their flight, much to Red’s amusement), and as much silent encouragement as they could. They were in this together, no matter what was waiting for them on that planet.

  


“Voltron is not fit to ally with us,” declared the council leader upon Lance and Allura’s entrance into the sweeping meeting room.  
  
Lance was thrilled they were off to such a great start. Even with such a warm welcome though, and with his smile never wavering, his eyes darted around the hall to take in all possible escape routes.  
  
“That’s why Princess Allura and I are here today,” he replied. “To prove otherwise.”  
  
“You cannot,” stated the Head Mevuc, Yalfan, as they screwed up one of their nine mouths and raising a winged arm to display a myriad of glowing tattoos. “You have no presence, no weight, no platform to speak on in this room.”  
  
Allura called on all her years of decorum training and the last decaphoeb of hands-on experience to slap a huge smile over her internal scream. Between the two of them, she and Lance should have completed enough “prove your worth” tests to earn the friendship of all solar systems within a hundred light decaphoeb radius! She still shuddered to remember the ones that had forced them to fight against each other in an underground arena. The first time it had happened, after about five dobashes of combat, Lance had managed to shoot Allura’s bayard at an angle that ricocheted until the force was only enough to knock him out by the time it collided with his helmet. That had been fun.  
  
“What would you require of us to give legitimacy to what we say?” She asked, palms folded graciously over her stomach as she wondered how Lance wasn’t slamming his forehead into the nearest pillar; he was even more sleep-deprived than her at that point.  
  
“A trial of your quintessence bond,” replied the Head.  
  
That was it; Allura was absolutely going to Pidge and Keith the moment this was over and coming up with some dangerous and _infuriating_ trial to put all potential allies through when they were, as Lance so well put it, offering protection and asking for _literally nothing in return_. Also, she should consider taking a nap before some innocent alien lost their head.  
  
“What does that…uh, mean?” Asked Lance, chin raised and hand prepared to call his bayard to him at any second.  
  
It would not be the first time something had attacked them the second they inquired about the test. _Well now it’s started, have fun, diplomat!_  
  
“You shall enter the Fields of Yuleide, sculpted from pure quintessence and made to judge the bond that exists between those who enter. There, you will be put through a trial that shall reveal the nature of your bond if it is strong enough to have a distinct form. Only then may you address us. If your team does not share a bond strong enough to have a physical shape, then how should we expect you to treat your allies?”  
  
“Sooooooooo,” said Lance, dragging out the word and trying to keep his brain from kicking into overdrive. “What happens if we don’t have that bond?”  
  
“You shall be obliterated by quintessent lightning.”  
  
Lance’s mouth twisted to the side, and he turned to Allura with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Is this really worth it?” He asked, slipping fully into Altean to guarantee that their conversation was protected from the council.  
  
Allura pursed her lips and studied her thin, brown hands. She wanted to say no, everything inside her was begging her to decide that this was enough. She had risked enough, she had given enough, she didn’t need to plunge herself and Lance towards a blindingly agonizing death again. She didn’t want to know that they needed the Mevucs to succeed. She wished she knew otherwise.  
  
But Allura was smart. She always had been.  
  
“I am afraid so,” she finally whispered, a sigh clinging to each word like a thundercloud. “We need these allies in order to complete our assault on Zarkon once we locate him. We cannot afford to back down.”  
  
Allura lifted her chin and pulled her shoulders back, slipping into the comfortable skin of Crown Princess of Altea once again. “We shall simply have to hope our best is good enough.”  
  
Lance’s eyes lingered on her and, for a moment, she swore a bolt of paint flashed through his eyes. Then a cocky grin swept over his face like a fresh ocean wave and he held out his fist to her.  
  
“Well then, we just have to blow them out of the water like always, Princess!” Declared Lance as the two fist-bumped.  
  
Yalfan studied them with glowing purple eyes, ten whiskers twitching from her nose and large blue-and-red wings spread to fill up the huge dais she sat upon. Her formal golden robes seemed to be dripping in lace, and her talons were a glimmering silver as they shifted into a slightly more offensive position. She tilted her head back, the mouth from her neck addressing them.  
  
“Have you come to your decision, paladins?”  
  
“We shall undertake your challenge,” declared Allura, pulling her helmet fully over her head again.  
  
“Very well,” sniffed another Council member. “None have succeeded in this since the beginning of time. We have not had an ally since our inception.”  
  
Allura bit down her desire to reply that they knew. It had only kept them up half the night for a movement, totally not important or relevant to the growing bags under Lance’s eyes.  
  
“Well, Voltron basically relies on us having a strong bond,” pointed out Lance, jolting Allura back to the present and dropping his hands to his hips confidently.  
  
“Indeed, I remember the original paladins,” replied Yalfan sharply. “Their Black Paladin broke our sacred room to allow himself and the Red Paladin to escape. Be grateful we are allowing Voltron a second chance at all.”  
  
Allura blanched, and Lance had to bite his lip to keep the tremor out of his next breath. The initial paladins had a bond strong enough to save galaxies. Coran had regaled them with a thousand tales of the exploits of the original five, of how they knew everything about one another from their favorite smell to each secret scar littering their hearts as warriors and as humans. They fought as if they could read each other’s minds on the battlefield, never having a plan and still surviving on the sheer faith they had in one another.  
  
Okay, so maybe Coran had exaggerated a little, but the consensus in everything both Allura and Lance had read was that these paladins were a force more powerful than any other in the universe. And yes, part of that was due to Voltron, but most of it was because they were a band that surpassed a family. Particularly Zarkon and Alfor. Until the betrayal, Zarkon and Alfor were practically linked at the waist, comrades on and off the battlefield, and several calls for the two to become engaged. They were once said to have eliminated an entire army on their own with no plan and were still able to return in time for Zarkon’s speech at Alfor’s wedding. Allura could actually confirm that one from her mother as well, and even that hadn’t been enough to become bonded? The only ones closer to those paladins were their spouses, and sometimes even that had been debated!  
  
“Um, excuse me?” Lance piped up. “This doesn’t require a…a romantic bond, does it? Or a blood one?”  
  
“No,” snapped Yalfran, feathers rising and talons flashing in the light again. “It does not.”  
  
Lance’s eyes cut to Allura, passing over the face he knew could be easily chiseled to hide any emotion she didn’t want to be seen, and sliding down to her hands. Fists. Nails digging into her gloved palm. Shaking.  
  
“Allura,” he called, reaching over and sliding his fingers between hers, tugging her hand until she faced him head-on. “V vedal fxd.”  
  
“Incondicionalmente,” finished Allura automatically, the word tripping off her tongue on pure instinct.  
  
Lance’s entire face lit up like a newly formed solar system, and something inside Allura unclenched. He wasn’t Zarkon. She wasn’t Alfor. And maybe, if she was being honest, maybe that was a good thing.  
  
She took a deep breath in, filling her lungs to the bursting point, and locked her fingers around Lance’s.  
  
“We’re ready,” she declared.  
  
The beaded clip pressed into the back of her hair.  
  
“It is through that way,” stated the Head, one of her whiskers twitching toward a nearby door and every single one of her mouths curling in disdain. “Once it closes, it shall not open until you have been obliterated.”  
  
“Cool!” Exclaimed Lance, sending a brilliant smile at no one in particular it seemed, but the faint squeeze on Allura’s hand told her it was just for her. “Can’t wait to make a new record!”  
  
Allura exhaled, returning the smile and stepping towards the indicated door. It was old, painted a deep blue with sprinkles of gold crackling and flashing every ten ticks or so. It would have looked rather like one of the special doors within the Castle of Lions if not for the soft purple glow seeped through the cracks in the wood. Lance summoned his bayard, flicking the gun to his dominant hand as Allura formed her whip.  
  
“Sooooooooo,” he whispered, popping between Altean and Spanish while trying for a smile. “Should I cover you? Or are we going back-to-back movie-style?”  
  
Allura’s lips twitched in response.  
  
“You and I always have found common ground in movies,” she replied. “Indeed, once we have completed this, I must introduce you to Olnial and Qinze.”  
  
“Oooooh, looking forward to it, Allura!”  
  
The two grinned at one another, and Lance knocked the door open with his foot, ignoring the enraged shouts of the Mevucs behind him. He cocked his head towards the entrance and beamed. “Shall we?”  
  
“Why, of course,” replied Allura as formally as she could, clasping his free hand in hers and stepping into the Fields of Yuleide alongside the person she trusted more than anyone else in the universe.  
  
The door closed behind them with a quiet creak.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	13. Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura’s fingers tapped the right side of his hand once…twice…three times. He squeezed her hand twice, continuing to chatter on about Sylvio and Nadia’s argument (which had apparently included a wrestling match) with occasional input, questions, and laughter from Allura. They waited for five dobashes, Allura’s chin still tilted upwards, Lance’s eyes memorizing the room around them.  
  
Then Allura let go.

“Well, this is dark!” Chirped Lance, his hand tightening around Allura’s and blaster glowing a sharp purple beside him. “Super cheery, you know?”  
  
Allura snickered, her own bayard acting as a bridge of red light through the darkness consuming the world beyond them.  
  
“Given the last time we were placed in a complete absence of light,” she said, tapping the floor in front of her with her boot to make sure it wouldn’t give way, “I would hazard that they have a monster within this proximity that either cannot survive in light or attacks as an assassin.”  
  
“Sounds legit,” replied Lance with a shrug. “So we figure out which sense they rely on then. It could be sound, smell, heat perception, or maybe sight through infrared?”  
  
“Infrared?” Allura asked, arching a thin white eyebrow. “What is this infrared?”  
  
“Oh, it’s a color too dark for humans to see,” replied Lance with a shrug, eyes scanning the room around them; they had almost finished adjusting.  
  
As part of his sharpshooter training, Lance would often take over the side training room and plunge it into complete darkness. Then he would locate the drones circling the room based on sound and shoot them out of the air. After a while, though, he had noticed that his eyes were beginning to be able to make out the shapes of the drones. Naturally, he started blindfolding himself for the exercise after that, but he had also honed his ability to make out shapes in the dark and adjust quickly to any changes in lighting. It usually took him about one minute now instead of the customary five. “Some animals can see it, and there’s tech that lets us do night missions, but it’s outside our basic range of colors.”  
  
Allura smiled, her mental clock clicking at forty-five seconds. She just had to buy them a little more time.  
  
“So it is like the ‘ultraviolet’ phenomenon that Pidge raged against in relation to the burning of her skin?”  
  
Lance sniggered and gave a long blink, twirling his gun with a light touch; their sign for all clear.  
  
“Of course Pidge burns easily,” he commented, grinning. “Poor Pidgey. And yeah, it’s like that, but on the opposite side of the light spectrum.”  
  
“Oh, that makes sense,” replied Allura, switching her grip on her bayard and twitching her ears back.  
  
If Lance was their eyes in the dark, she was their ears. Once he had cleared the room in front of them, it was her job to handle the back. This was a trick her mother had taught her once to let her eavesdrop on Coran singing in the shower, and while Lance continued chattering to provide the illusion that they weren’t doing anything, Allura tipped her head back ever so slightly.  
  
It was basic quintessence control, channeling her energy back towards her ears to enhance her hearing, but she always had to choose a place to take that quintessence from. Her nose, she decided, wasn’t going to do them much good. Still, she had to force her lips not to curve into a scowl as her nose went completely numb and her hearing sharpened to an almost painful degree. Sacrificing one of her eight senses (she and Coran had barely been able to stop giggling when they heard that humans only had five) was always the most effective choice.  
  
“Yeah, they were arguing for a varga over whether purple light was going to make the sunflower purple too—”  
  
Allura’s fingers tapped the right side of his hand once…twice…three times. He squeezed her hand twice, continuing to chatter on about Sylvio and Nadia’s argument (which had apparently included a wrestling match) with occasional input, questions, and laughter from Allura. They waited for five dobashes, Allura’s chin still tilted upwards, Lance’s eyes memorizing the room around them.  
  
Then Allura let go.  
  
Lance whipped to his right, rippling away from the set of claws shooting towards his armor and kicking the alien in front of Allura. His blaster flashed twice, stun shots nailing the giant mixes between lizards and falcons lunging for them, the faint light of his lasers revealing a familiar pink shimmer on their nails. Achulk. Oh goody.  
  
Allura slammed her alien into the ground behind him, the whip unwinding from their shoulders as they went slack onto the marble floor.  
  
“A queen,” declared Lance with an exaggerated bow, and Allura let out a tinkling laugh as she curtsied in response.  
  
“If defeating one makes me a queen,” she commented, smile widening, “would not two transform you into a deity, Lance?”  
  
“Awwwwwww, you flatterer,” teased Lance, shoving her shoulder lightly and earning a cheerful one in response that almost knocked him onto his back.  
  
“That being said,” murmured Allura, finger coming to her chin and failing to notice Lance’s struggle to stay upright, “if they have achulk on their claws, we must presume malicious intent in all future aliens we meet throughout these trials.”  
  
“Unless these guys have one of those ‘kindness’ tests or something,” grumbled Lance, rolling his shoulder and cracking his neck. “They seem like the type to—”  
  
“On your right!” Shrieked Allura, and the sudden flick of feathers behind them tingling her ears.  
  
Lance didn’t need to be told twice, the shot ringing out before he had finished turning, and Allura heard the faint thump of a body on the ground.  
  
“Thanks, ‘Lura,” breathed Lance, shifting a step closer to the taller paladin. “Okay, your eyes don’t adjust to darkness, right?”  
  
“Yes,” confirmed Allura with a sigh. “Eight senses means some of mine are…more rigid than yours.”  
  
Lance blew out a careful breath, and Allura sucked the quintessence from her eyes and transferred it to her ears as well. They would hardly be doing her much good.  
  
“Back-to-back,” warned Lance a tick before his shoulder pads bumped the backs of hers. “Think you can knock them out by tracking their sounds?”  
  
“I can,” promised Allura, settling her whip into one hand and shifting her stance. “Here they come. V vedal fxd.”  
  
“Incondicionalmente,” agreed Lance, and Allura didn’t need to look to feel the smile thrumming through that word.

  


Keith hated this.  
  
By all rights, today should have been easier than that chaos of the quintant before! The Diplomatic Division had already handled all their stupid details before Lance and Allura had left, which meant Keith, Zethrid, and Krolia should just be able to sit down and finalize battle plans. Keith, even if he sucked at them, quite liked helping with these plans. His ideas were always a little more reckless than his companions’ and had at least three major problems, but the basis of it served as the foundation of their finalized plan. After working with Lance and Allura for so many phoebs on planning, he had finally gotten away from the _charge-and-destroy-and-win_ mentality.  
  
By all rights, today should have been great.  
  
So Keith really, really, _really_ didn’t understand why he was stuck burying his face in the table and clapping his hands over his ears as if that could hide the blush consuming his entire head.  
  
“Just ask him out!” Insisted Ezor (who wasn’t even part of the Battlefield Division!), perched in Zethrid’s lap as she chattered at him. “Really, you two are so clearly madly in love, just get the pining over with!”  
  
“We!” Growled Keith, emphasizing each word carefully. “Are! Partners!”  
  
“You’re not fooling anybody, Kogane,” replied Zethrid, pecking Ezor’s cheek as she spoke. “You turned to him yesterday and he tossed you an eraser before you even said anything. You two are like some psychic pair or something.”  
  
Krolia remained silent, which Keith was eternally grateful for. If _she_ pushed him, he might actually start screaming.  
  
“I completely agree!” Chirped Romelle, sprawling across the table to pat Keith’s head. “You two are adorable!”  
  
Okay, he was definitely going to start screaming if his mother decided to get in on this.  
  
“We have work to do!” Keith reminded the group, though it came out as more of a snarl than anything else.  
  
“You already said we finished the battle plans,” retorted Zethrid. “Come on, Acxa, don’t you think Keith should tell Lance?”  
  
“It’s up to him,” replied Acxa simply, running a silver light over her fingernails that seemed to be dying them a pale pink. “Granted, I was convinced you two were dating when I came aboard.”  
  
“See!”  
  
“Acxa, not helpful!” Snapped Keith, and the General just raised an eyebrow at him. “Right, not trying to help, got it! Anyway, Lance and I are not a couple and we’re not going to be! This is a war, not some intergalactic game of spin-the-bottle!”  
  
The group of aliens around him blinked silently, and Ezor glanced at Zethrid with a twisted mouth as her girlfriend just shrugged. Romelle twisted her head until it was almost upside down, and Acxa raised an eyebrow. Krolia’s expression didn’t change. Keith groaned and barely resisted the urge to tear his hair out by the roots.  
  
“What do spinning bottles have to d—”  
  
“Nothing!” Full-on snarled Keith. “It’s just an Earth thing! Anyway, we have three plans laid out, but we should come up with other alternatives too!”  
  
“If we were going to do that, we’d need the Princess and the other Black Paladin,” pointed out Acxa steadily. “They would be instrumental in reviewing the plans. We have done all we can for the day.”  
  
“No, we haven’t,” insisted Ezor, pouting. “We still need to fix the Black Paladins’ dating lives! It’s the perfect romance!”  
  
Keith groaned and buried his face in the table again. The only reason he hadn’t tried to leave was that they would all follow him around and get his own team in on it too, and he really didn’t want to hear Adam and Shiro laughing at him for another half varga for his complete failure to confess to Lance when they were dancing together in the rain like, as the two put it, a pair of lovestruck fools.  
  
Keith scowled. The rain hadn’t been meant as a confession, it was his way of saying thank you. And Keith knew he was reckless; he was spontaneous and always threw himself into situations without thinking them through. He didn’t want to do that this time. He wanted to give Lance the best love story he could, even if that story began and ended with Keith’s confession.

  


“Allura, my left!” Shrieked Lance, slamming one of the lizard-falcons over the head with his gun and using it as a brace for his shot.  
  
“Covered!” Cried Allura, her whip snapping around the alien’s ankle and throwing him into two of his allies. “But we must remove ourselves from this circle as soon as possible!”  
  
Lance, firing three lasers into the crowd, growling as a bead of sweat pricked his eye.  
  
“Can you clear a path?” He asked, kicking an alien away and shooting two trying to creep around him and go for Allura.  
  
“Not a chance!” Warned Allura, yanking an alien into her knee, and crashing her elbow into the side of their head. “My hands are full!”  
  
Lance growled; these guys just never stopped coming! His blaster was steaming in his hands, Allura was snarling behind him in an attempt to hide her gasping breaths, and the lizard-falcons did not have the same qualms as them about lethal force. Achulk sizzled against Lance’s shoulder pads, eating through the material and sizzling towards his skin in a quiet promise of pain matched only by the pink acid on his shin pads. If he didn’t want that devouring his skin, he was going to need to get it off. He hoped Allura hadn’t been struck yet.  
  
“Lance, above me!” Shouted Allura, and Lance was spinning without a second thought.  
  
His shot knocked the alien against the wall, and Allura hurled a small bundle of aliens through the crowd. “They must be entering from somewhere within this room! Lance, can you see where?”  
  
“No!” Grunted Lance, raising his blaster to parry a blow. “I can’t see past any of these goons!”  
  
“Lance, I cannot keep this up much longer,” pleaded Allura, throwing a flying kick into one of the lizard-falcon’s eyes. “My quintessence is weakening. Please, you must find their entrance and seal it.”  
  
Lance’s heart shot into his throat just as it clenched, tightening until he couldn’t breathe and his pulse was like a drummer’s off day symphony in his ears and the aliens were pressing ever closer and he could clearly feel Allura’s heaving through their shoulders and _how could he help, he needed to save them, he had to protect her, he had to, he was the Black Paladin, he was her friend, he was—_  
  
“Lance!” Allura screamed, and he heard a stone clatter, a boot miss its step, and then all sound around him faded to a buzz.  
  
_Allura had just fallen._  
  
Lance tore around, ignoring the aliens bearing down on him, the achulk glinting off his blaster’s light, the thoughts and hammering trying to drown out his thoughts. He didn’t care about any of that. He just turned, eyes flashing, and ran.  
  
_Allura. He had to get to Allura._  
  
Lance may not be able to see a way out of this, he may not have any guarantees about their next varga, or their future for that matter, and he may not be able to protect them for even more than a few ticks. He wasn’t a genius like Pidge, he couldn’t engineer them a way to safety, or Shiro, who would punch their way through the crowd. He wasn’t Hunk, who could just blast his way out of this, or Keith, who would stab his way to freedom. Lance wasn’t a close-range fighter. He couldn’t fight his way out of this mess.  
  
But he could light the way.  
  
“Allura, get my back!” Called Lance, diving between her and the crowd of aliens and raising his blaster to guard as one of the aliens lunged at him.  
  
The claws glistened a venomous pink, slicing down towards his head, and Lance breathed out, long and slow. He saw the alien’s second strike, the one his blaster couldn’t reach to intercept, the kick aimed at Allura. Lance steaded his grip on the gun and braced his feet. He was the one here with Allura. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to either of them. That was what it meant to be a Voltron paladin, and that was what it meant to be part of their Voltron family.  
  
Lance threw his gun to the side, the tip of the barrel slamming away the claws shooting towards Allura and pulling the grip away from his stomach.  
The talons arced towards his stomach. Allura screamed behind him. Lance gritted his teeth and tried to jerk the gun back, tried to brush away the claws like they were nothing, tried to make it in time because _he had to try, he had to try, he couldn’t just give up, not after everything they had done, he couldn’t lose now, **he couldn’t afford to fail—**_  
  
**CLANG**  
  
Allura’s crystalline eyes transformed into twin moons, her hands fluttering uselessly towards her companion, but Lance didn’t turn to meet her halfway this time.  
  
“Oh Altea,” she whispered.

  


Keith was honestly pretty sure if the alarms hadn’t started screaming, then he would have. He had gritted his teeth through over thirty dobashes of teasing and prodding (mainly by replaying the night before, reading aloud to the one he loved as he watched sleep overtake those gorgeous ocean-blue eyes) but Ezor was literally poking his arm and the only ones who could get away with that were his team—  
  
So, yeah, the alarms may or may not have saved him from screaming at one of Lotor’s diplomats.  
  
“Is it another raid?” Asked Zethrid, rising and jerking her cloak off the back of her chair.  
  
“Possibly,” replied Acxa, blowing on the last nail and smiling at the pale pink that kind of matched Allura’s Altean markings— “but these explosions feel more extreme than last time. It could be a vanguard.”  
  
“Paladins!” Shouted Coran, his voice rippling through the Castle with more force than Keith had ever heard. “You must get to your Lions immediately! Number Four, how close is the council to completing the strike plans?”  
  
Keith was pretty sure all the blood had just drained from his face, and he tore towards the wall, slamming his fist against the intercom’s button.  
  
“They’re done!” He shouted, the familiar wildfire scorching through in his blood and blazing its way into his voice. “Coran, what are we facing?!”  
  
Coran hesitated.  
  
Keith’s eyes widened to twice their usual size, and his next gulp sent lava burning down his throat and into his stomach. He turned towards the other generals in the room. Acxa’s hand was on her gun, Zethrid’s shoulders were braced, Krolia had grabbed her helmet already, Romelle was snapping her head around the room with her mouth quirked in confusion, and Ezor’s eyes were fixed on Keith, her mouth just slightly open as if, for once, scared to ask.  
  
Keith swallowed again.  
  
“Got it, Coran,” he decided. “Team Voltron, I’ll send you all the plan; it’ll come up in your Lion’s control screen!”  
  
“But, Black Paladin!” Interjected Zethrid, stepping closer so her voice carried through the Castle of Lions as well. “We don’t have any plan without the Red Lion!”

  


“‘Lura, watch your front!” Warned Lance, finding his voice and shoving his feet further into the ground as a grin spread across his lips.  
  
His eyes could have matched any of their Lions, and as his shoulders bunched under the strain of the claws, his grin widened fiercely. The black Altean broadsword glittered in his hands, the hilt shining a familiar blue and inlaid with red patterns. “I think I may have our exit covered.”  
  
Allura could barely breathe; she hadn’t felt the essence of a sword like that since her father’s death ten thousand decaphoebs ago. Those broadswords molded themselves to their user, perfectly weighted and at the optimal length for whatever they needed. Not to mention, that energy……  
  
“Here we go!” Roared Lance, twirling the blade in his hand and launching himself towards the enemy like a merciful demon.  
  
The flat of the blade crashed into the aliens’ chests, hurling them backwards as he flipped the sword from one hand to the other, clubbing an enemy over the head and spinning to uppercut a lizard-falcon’s jaw. He swept between two legs and vanished into the crowd, the aliens falling around him like leaves in a windstorm, and Allura dashed through the path they made. Lance’s battle cries rang out, leaving a trail for her to follow, but she couldn’t just blindly run after her comrade. If he was clearing the crowd, then she needed to find them a way out of this. Properly.  
  
Where were the aliens coming from?

  


“Not just the Red Lion,” replied Keith grimly. “I can’t pilot Black until Lance comes back. The Blue, Yellow, and Green Lions are all Voltron has to offer.”  
  
“We have no strategy or outline of a plan for that!” Cried Romelle. “How could we fight these guys without Voltron?!”  
  
Keith gritted his teeth together, clenching and unclenching his hand rhythmically and trying to match his breathing to it. He knew Romelle was right. He knew better than anyone exactly how much trouble they were in right now. He had faced these generals twice on his Blade missions, he knew the ruthless precision of their attacks, the sheer scale of their army, the complete conviction in their cause that each had. This battle would have been painful even with all of Voltron; now they were missing the hearts of their team.  
  
Keith wasn’t Lance. He didn’t have boundless confidence in them or in the idea that everything would work out because it usually didn’t. He didn’t have a stupid amount of charisma and joy radiating off of him and lighting up the entire room—the entire ship—around him. He wasn’t Allura, with her calm demeanor and ability to convince everyone that Voltron would win. He wasn’t like either of them.  
  
Keith was a fighter, though. And he didn’t go down easily.

  


Allura lost feeling in her face, all the senses draining and throwing their quintessence into her ears. Her fingers clenched, the whip pressing a curve against her thumb and hissing with energy. Allura breathed out and, her steps slowing, drew her focus back towards her hearing. Lance was doing everything he could to protect them. She wasn’t going to lose to him now.  
  
She could hear Lance’s bayard, humming with pure black energy so loudly it nearly flashed stars into her eyes.  
  
She could hear the clink of talons against the ground, the slight gouge each alien left in the seemingly unbreakable tile.  
  
She could hear the rustle of feathers scrunched against metal, the swoosh of them blossoming into the air, the faintest tick of them landing on the tiles.  
  
She could hear the pulse of uncontaminated, untouched quintessence to the right, a whole circle of it.  
  
And she knew it.  
  
“Allura!” Shrieked Lance, his fingers wrapping around her wrist and jerking her to the side.  
  
A sharp screech followed the motion, Allura’s brain instantly computing it into a talon grazing Lance’s shield, and her whip lashed around the alien’s waist.  
  
“Lance, throw me up!” Allura shouted, flinging the lizard-falcon into one of his companions and pressing her back against Lance’s once more. “I can stop more from coming!”  
  
“Facing left or right?” Came Lance’s immediate reply, no question or deliberation in their movements as they danced around one another.  
  
Allura smiled to herself and switched her whip to her left hand in lieu of an answer. And no, maybe she couldn’t actually hear Lance smiling. But she didn’t really need to.  
  
The hands around her waist, tight as they catapulted her into the air, were all the indications she needed.

  


“So what?!” Snarled Keith, snatching his helmet from the table and yanking it over his head in one relentless motion. “Do you think that’s going to stop these guys from attacking? We adapt. We’re going to make do, beat the odds, and win. That’s just who we are.”  
  
Keith stalked towards the door, whipping around to face the others with eyes searingly dark. “What about you? Who are you?”  
  
Zethrid bristled. Ezor grinned viciously. Acxa scowled, and Krolia helped Romelle to her feet. Keith smirked.  
  
“We need to readjust the fleet’s positions,” stated Acxa, flipping up a holochart and locking Keith’s eyes with her own. “Voltron will still take point, but I’ll be directly behind them this time. Zeth and Ezor will flank me. Narti and the Castle of Lions remain behind for support, and the Blades fill in the gaps. Admiral, were those fifty ships taken out?”  
  
“No, the strike happened before the Blade of Marmora was able to,” growled Krolia, muttering something about _incompetent_ and _bureaucracy_ and _quiznaking fools_ that drew a chuckle from Romelle.  
  
“Alright, sounds good to me,” decided Keith. “Send those plans out, Acxa.”  
  
He turned to Krolia then, and the woman raised an eyebrow. He had a feeling she already knew what he was about to ask, but he said it anyway.  
  
“Got any spare fighter ships?”

  


Allura flew threw the air, arching her back as she traced the humming of unfiltered quintessence, the monomers of every portal she had ever opened. This army was trudging in from another location, allowing them to replace soldiers seamlessly, sure.  
  
But portals were incredibly fragile. Allura had enough quintessence to open portals by herself, but she needed the Castle of Lions to channel her energy for a reason. The delicate threads weaving through space and time were incredibly fine; they could not get tangled in either dimensions, realities, or the fabric of the universe they were weaving through. If there was even the slightest puff of wind, it could all be thrown astray.  
  
Or, just for instance, a whip fueled with the quintessence of a very angry Altean princess striking the side of the portal and cutting through the symbols outlining the structure. Just as an example.  
  
Allura swung, pitching her arm to the side and tracing the very edge of the hum back to its source. She could still hear Lance screaming his way through the battlefield, swinging and battering and slamming a path beneath her so she could land safely. She could still hear the clatter and hiss accompanying every movement of the lizard-falcons, the faint buffeting of their wings, the tiles giving way beneath the bubbling achulk the aliens were so immune to.  
  
She could also hear the snap of her whip cracking against the portal’s foundation, the deafening shriek of the walls beginning to cave, and the cheer of her comrade as the portal glowed bright, bright, bright blue in the dark room.  
  
Then it swallowed itself and blinked out of existence.  
  
Allura rolled out her landing, immediately lashing out with her whip. Then Lance’s shoulder blades grazed her own, and Allura let out a whoop.  
  
“Let’s finish this, Lan!”  
  
“Couldn’t have said it better myself, ‘Lura!”

  


Krolia’s other eyebrow arched at the question, leaving Keith glad he had actually asked instead of assuming she understood. He had gotten used to Lance and the silent conversations and understanding they had developed over the past three phoebs of teamwork. It was weird now to not see that fond eye roll, that exaggerated half-wave _come on_ gesture, that smirk and that low, sweet _of course that’s your first thought, you mulleted samurai_ he had heard every time he dashed to the training room right after breakfast. The quip that it was Lance’s too died on his tongue.  
  
Keith swallowed.  
  
“I’m still going to fight,” he declared. “I’m used to those ships, and until Lance comes back, it’s all I’ve got. I’m flying with Voltron.”  
  
“Keith, you should probably stay with the other Blade ships,” pointed out Acxa. “It would be very risky to try and keep up with the Voltron Lions.”  
  
“I don’t fight like the Blades or respond to them,” shot back Keith, the door already opening as he turned back, “and I’m still leading Voltron. I’m going to be on the front lines with my family. Admiral, your fleet?”  
  
Krolia blew out a huff of a breath and followed him out the door, jerking her head towards the hangars.  
  
“We have two extras.”  
  
“Good,” stated Keith, striding off down the direction she had indicated. “Thank you, Admiral. Good luck out there.”  
  
“You too, Keith.”  
  
Keith didn’t bother glancing back, just pressed his fingers to his communicator (which had finally linked with the rest of the team) and waited for the blinking orange dot to appear before speaking.  
  
“Coran, radio Allura and Lance. Tell them we need them here now, even if that throws the alliance. The strike’s already happening.”  
  
“Ah, there might be a slight problem with that, Number Four,” warned Coran. “It takes half a quintant for even a Lion to reach the Mevucs, and I do not have sufficient control of my quintessence to open a portal to speed up their voyage.”  
  
Keith’s stomach did a dive towards the floor at that, and only the black hue of his armor that matched Lance’s kept his feet moving. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. Don’t give up. Giving up got them nowhere. Breathe in. Breathe out. In.  
  
“Leave them a message anyway,” he decided. “Just in case.”

  


Lance whacked the final lizard-falcon over the head, groaning as the alien fell and glancing towards his comrade. Allura’s hands were planted on her knees and she was bent double, fumbling for air to gasp into her lungs and shaking to the point that she risked face-planting any tick now.  
  
“That’s the last of them, ‘Lura,” called Lance, sticking with pure Altean instead of their usual mixture. “Good thing you showed me that side training room, huh?”  
  
“Yes, very,” huffed Allura. “Frankly, I was quite confused as to why you were fascinated with mastering alternative weapons in addition to your rifle and gun, but I am more than grateful for it at the moment.”  
  
“Yeah, me too,” admitted Lance, impaling the sword in the ground both to admire the design and to keep himself from falling over. “Call it a hunch.”  
  
“Well then,” retorted Allura, the faintest frill of teasing in her voice, “what would your next hunch be on this trial then, Lance?”  
  
Lance groaned, ripping off his shoulder pads and shin braces along with other pieces sizzling with achulk. He tossed them to the ground, and the series of CLUNKs left Allura scrabbling at her own armor as well.  
  
“Honestly?” Replied Lance, crossing the room and helping her remove the contaminated material before it could give entirely and leave the peachy death acid to sear through her skin. “Since that was just basic fighting stuff (probably a battlefield teamwork test or something? Not really sure) then this’ll be some sort of twisted mind nonsense that we’re both going to seriously hate.”  
  
“Well,” mused a third voice as the lights clicked on, making Allura flinch and Lance screech curses as he grasped his throbbing eyes, “that is one way to put it, yes.”

  


Keith swung his body into the fighter ship, fingers curling automatically over the controls, and his own private transmission to Lance failed due to ‘interference’, whatever that meant.  
  
“Lance,” he called the moment it went to voicemail. “We’re under attack. Call me when you guys finish up there; we need you back here immediately.” Then he dropped his voice lower, as if that somehow made it more private than it already was (_for the dramatic effect_, whispered a voice that sounded suspiciously like Lance’s in his head) for the next part. “Take care out there, Sharpshooter. Remember, you’re coming back. For sure.”  
  
Keith gulped, the hangar doors snarling open in front of him, and he leaned forwards automatically.  
  
“Just keep kicking butt,” he murmured, “and we’ll do the same over here. Call me once you’re done and ready to brag. This is Keith, over and out.”  
  
Then Keith slammed the accelerator, twisted his right stick, and shot out into the battlefield lined with explosions, stars, giant Lions, and battleships all waging a war around his home.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	14. …Unconditionally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura rubbed his back, her own eyes unconcerned with the lights and far more fixated on the shadowy figure hovering at the end of the hall and holding two glowing orbs in their hands. Fantastic. The last time they had dealt with a random shadow, it had nearly strangled Lance before Allura had managed to distract it with her quintessence’s light long enough for her fellow paladin to gun it down. Fun times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for character death, though they are in a nightmare. To avoid, skip from "as the light overtook them once again" to "'Lura, 'Lura" and then from "Maybe in another dimension they are!" to "Lan, breathe"

“Lan, are you alright?” Cried Allura, grabbing her friend’s shoulders to steady him as the shorter boy bent double, covering his eyes and moaning. “Lance?!”  
  
“Owowowowowowowow,” hissed Lance. “Too bright. It was too dark and now it’s too bright. Ow.”  
  
Allura rubbed his back, her own eyes unconcerned with the lights and far more fixated on the shadowy figure hovering at the end of the hall and holding two glowing orbs in their hands. Fantastic. The last time they had dealt with a random shadow, it had nearly strangled Lance before Allura had managed to distract it with her quintessence’s light long enough for her fellow paladin to gun it down. Fun times.  
  
“What do you want?” She gritted out, curling around Lance as he began to spread his fingers enough to blink and wince at the light flooding the corridor piled high with unconscious aliens.  
  
The writhing shadows that vaguely resembled a figure hovered their way closer to the two paladins, and Allura tugged Lance behind her. Her legs were shaking from exhaustion, her face was still numb and vision blurry from quintessence drain, and her breathing wasn’t even close to being under control as she faced down a potentially murderous shadow demon intent on messing with their minds. She had no intention of letting them so much as touch Lance.  
  
“You may call me Taluk,” said the shadow thing, which absolutely did not answer the question Allura had actually posed. “I am, as I am sure the Princess has already guessed, a demon of the fear realm. My wife is a Mevucian Council member, so I assist them with this trial.”  
  
Allura’s scowl rivalled the Black Lion’s, and Lance finally managed to drop his hands from his face and actually get a good look at the figure hovering in front of them. He just groaned loudly.  
  
“Are you going to throw glowing fear water balloons at us or something?” He grumbled, eyeing the orbs and shifting a hand to brace Allura better. “‘Cause water balloons are plenty scary when it’s your older brother throwing them, so I’m pretty sure a fear demon could have a ton of fun with that!”  
  
The demon continued to hover, and Allura winced at the throb of quintessence that passed through the room. Apparently the Fields of Yuleide were preparing for whatever was coming next. They had to do this quickly; though the Fields seemed to be controlled quintessence, being surrounded by pure energy for too long guaranteed damage. Allura’s fingers curled around Lance’s, still pressing him behind her as her free hand steadied around her bayard.  
  
“But water balloons are not your biggest fear,” replied the demon. “What I hold is.”  
  
“Dios mios; look, are you going to attack us or not?” Complained Lance, planting his feet beside Allura and raising his chin with that sharp shine of laughter in his eyes. “Because if you’re just going to come at us with those spheres or whatever, please do not start monologuing about your powers and how weak and puny we are and being destined to lose, yada yada yada, blah blah blah.”  
  
Allura hadn’t been able to bite back her giggles by the time he got to the ‘puny’ part, so by the time he was done with his _blah_s, she was covering her mouth to keep from bursting into full-on laughter. Altea, she loved this boy. Only he could make fun of a fear demon based on movie tropes from their late-night marathons together. Only he could make her laugh when she wanted to roll over and sleep for the next decaphoeb without stop. Only he could make her feel amused when confronted by the literal promise of her worst nightmare.  
  
At that, the fear demon gave Lance the shadow equivalent of a pout.  
  
“I am not going to attack you,” they grumbled, “but I would like to explain the nature of these orbs so you can fail quickly and I can return to my date with my wife.”  
  
“Right, right, sorry,” replied Lance, waving his hand and ignoring the jab at their likelihood of success. “Proceed.”  
  
“Thank you,” said the fear demon, the being that invented nightmares and cast them around the universe to descend upon others, the entity that could drive entire planets to insanity with a flick of their wrist, the one whose touch stopped hearts from terror and destroyed voices from screaming. “Now, these orbs have been conjured by the Fields of Yuleide while you were fighting the Junvez. They hold within them your greatest fear, the thing that haunts your nights and every decision you make.”  
  
One of the spheres pulsed black, and the demon handed that to Lance. The red one slid into Allura’s hands a second later, the shadows careful to avoid her skin as they relinquished it. “They are yours now. It is up to you what you do with them. You may smash them, which would destroy any trace of the fear, though it would linger inside you. You may view them by tapping twice, which could shatter your mind or it could strengthen you infinitely. You may carry it around and try to hide your greatest vulnerability, waiting to see what happens, or whatever other options you come up with. Remember to release one another’s hands if you view them or you shall drag your comrade through your nightmare in addition to their own. These are your burdens; do with them what you will.”  
  
The demon retreated, the shadows dispersing across the piles of aliens and consuming them, melting into the ground and vanishing along with the unconscious lizard-falcons strewn about the room. The lights flickered, but remained, casting the room in a soft blue hue that both former Blue Paladins recognized in a heartbeat.  
  
Allura sighed, dragging herself to her feet and cradling her orb carefully in one hand while offering the other to Lance.  
  
“Your…what did you call them? Hunches? They are quite good, indeed,” she commented, hoisting her friend to his feet. “How would you like to do this, then?”  
  
Lance leaned against the wall and spun the sphere on his finger, making a face at the black swirls of quintessence sliding from it.  
  
“Blech,” he stated after a long pause. “This whole thing is blech.”  
  
Allura snickered, slumping beside him and lacing their fingers as she studied the red contrast to the blue light of the room. She recognized that tilt to Lance’s lips, the tiniest quirk upwards as they fought the urge to bend into a full scowl. She squeezed his hand gently.  
  
“It really is,” she agreed. “I would rather we not do this at all, but we must remove ourselves from these quintessence fields as soon as we can. I…”  
  
Allura paused, teeth instinctively latching onto her upper lip, and Lance’s fingers tightened around her own. Reassuring. Soft. A patience she never would have expected when she first met him. But, really, Lance was so much more than what met the eye. If she was going to plunge into a nightmare, she was glad to have Lance at her side out of all the paladins. “I already know what I will see,” she admitted. “Well…nightmares and the like, you understand.”  
  
“Of course I do,” murmured Lance, running his thumb over her knuckles softly. “Of course I do.”  
  
“I suppose that means I am…less apprehensive?” Offered Allura. “I know I can conquer this fear as I have every other time. I know it cannot break me. I would not let any of you down like that.”  
  
Lance hunched in on himself, and Allura gave his hand a slightly sharp tug. “That is why I am not worried about you either. You have never let our team down even when others have. V vedal fxd, remember?”  
  
Lance giggled, dropping the orb back into his palm and moving to settle it against his chest.  
  
“Incondicionalmente,” he promised.  
  
“So trust yourself too,” concluded Allura, holding up her sphere as if in a toast. “We are in this together.”  
  
Lance grinned, their fingers tightening around one another, and held up his own orb.  
  
“Always,” he agreed.  
  
Their orbs tapped together twice, and the world melted around them. Their fears couldn’t break either of them alone; together, it wasn’t even a question. Allura’s shoulders tightened and Lance planted his feet into a better stance as the light overtook them once again.  
  
Allura was in the Red Lion. The controls were heavy under her fingers, her team spread around her and Coran in the Castle of Lions just a few ships behind her.  
  
“Allura, come in!” Shouted Shiro, twisting past in the Blue Lion and cracking under the Galra’s fire. “We need backup!”  
  
“Allura, we’re starting the strike!” Yelled Keith, the Black Lion roaring across the battlefield toward the enemy flagship. “I need you to cover Shiro and Pidge! This is the risky part, be alert!”  
  
Allura wrapped her fingers more firmly around the controls and leaned forwards; this was the part she had suggested. They had to take down this fleet, and sometimes paladins had to take the hefty risks. It was okay. It was okay. They had done this a thousand times, they would do it a thousand more. Everything was fine.  
  
“Roger that,” she called, jerking the lever up.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Allura cocked her head, jiggling with the controls a few more times. “Red? Please come in?”  
  
“Allura!” Shrieked Pidge, a sudden blast revealing the Green Lion across the battlefield, black seared into the armor and metal wrecked with craters. “Ion cannon fixed on me! A little help, please?”  
  
“Red is not responding to me!” Cried Allura, throwing her entire body weight against the controls. “I can’t get her to react!”  
  
A wave of blue washed over the glass, a strange octagonal pattern filling her vision and Red’s lights dying around her.  
  
“Allura, drop the barrier!” Shouted Lance. “We can’t get to that cannon fast enough, only Red can!”  
  
“I can’t move!” Screamed Allura, slamming every button in her arsenal, kicking the dashboard, tackling the controls, and begging Red why why why why the entire time. “Please, someone else must!”  
  
“Allura!” Cried Pidge, her voice cut off by an explosion that seemed to rock the whole battlefield.  
  
The ion cannon’s purple shot shattered the Green Lion. The beam tore a hole through her head, shattering the glass and incinerating the cabin. The Lion flickered once, twice, and then just…nothing. Nothing at all.  
  
“PIDGE!” Roared Keith, and in that split second, a fighter ship slammed into the Black Lion’s head.  
  
Lance let out a blood chilling scream, and Keith’s frantic cries for his friend, his partner, _his love_ were destroyed by the blaster fire of the small craft.  
  
Allura hurled her shoulder against the controls, sobs wracking her shoulders and Altean splintering against the cabin walls.  
  
“Red…please…I’m begging you, please, let me save them. Let me save my friends! Let me save my family!”  
  
_“I am sorry, my paladin,”_ murmured the Lion as Hunk was hurled into Shiro with such a resounding crash that Allura’s ears rang. _“But I will not risk your life in this. I will protect you.”_  
  
“No!” Begged Allura, transforming into her Galra form and flinging herself against the controls as her eyes became frenzied. “_No!_ I will not be the last one left again! I will not let my family risk their lives while I sit by, protected and safe!”  
  
“Allura,” called Coran, the comms somehow carrying how soft his voice became when her safety was concerned, the Altean words a familiar weight on their shoulders. “It is alright. Everything will be okay, I promise.”  
  
“Coran, what are you—”  
  
“Do not worry, my dear,” promised Coran, the Castle of Lions dropping its shield and leaping into the center of the battlefield. “I will not let them get away.”  
  
“Coran, please!” Screamed Allura, but her advisor was not listening.  
  
The Castleship lit up, the cannons blazing like a firestorm and cutting through the space around them, streaking towards the flagship and ripping cleanly through it. Hunk let out a whoop, though it was accompanied by a grimace of pain, and Shiro gave a shout.  
  
Allura could barely breathe as she watched the wreckage of the Black Lion scatter amongst the fighter ships.  
  
“Coran, to your right!” Shouted Shiro, the Blue Lion righting itself and shooting towards the battleship emerging from the splintered remains of the Green Lion. “Ion cannon!”  
  
“Red, _please!_” Cried Allura. “Please, let me help them!”  
  
“Allura, don’t worry about it!” Yelled Hunk, swinging the fractured Yellow Lion in front of her and barreling back into the fray. “We’ve got this covered! Everything’s going to be fine!”  
  
Allura dropped her face into her hands, tears streaking her cheeks and cries tearing at her throat as she threatened, pleaded, bribed, begged Red to let her fight. These were her family. She couldn’t just sit by and watch them die again.  
  
“Coran!” Screamed Shiro, trying to shove the Castle of Lions away from the ion blast as the purple beam of energy sawed through the Blue Lion’s heart.  
  
It went straight through.  
  
The Castle of Lions exploded, Coran’s soft promise that he loved Allura the only remnant of her home, her dearest friend, the one thing she had left connecting her to her Altean life. After that, she buried her head in her knees, covered her ears, and screamed. She screamed and screamed and screamed. Hunk’s Yellow Lion flitted past the window, gutted as it unleashed the final volley, blowing the last of the Galra fighters to shrapnel. Allura didn’t stop crying. Hunk couldn’t even comfort her, the blood sliding from his mouth too thick to get any words past.  
  
The battle was won.  
  
And when the shields finally dropped, Allura was all that was left in a tattered wasteland holding only the broken futures of the ones she loved more than anything in the universe.

  


“‘Lura, ‘Lura, shhhhh, it’s okay, you—we’re okay, I promise. Hey, can you hear my voice?” Whispered Lance, his arms winding around his sobbing friend and curling her closer to his chest. “Hey, we’re okay, I promise. Pidge is bickering with Matt right now, Coran is pestering Adam, Shiro and Keith are teasing each other, and Hunk is whipping up some new crazy desert, okay? You and I are here. We’re all okay. You never let anyone down.”  
  
Allura clung to him, and Lance closed his eyes, rocking his friend gently as the world began to melt again. “Shhhhh, we’re all fine. Promise. V vedal fxd. V vedal fxd. V vedal fxd.”  
  
“Incondicionalmente,” murmured Allura, the word broken against her lips. “Incondicionalmente. Incondicionalmente.”  
  
“That’s right,” whispered Lance. “That’s our little chant, right? So you could only do that if I’m alive and safe, right? That’s only because you’ve saved my life a thousand times over. Or more like a million. A million bazillion. A million bazillion gatrillion.”  
  
“Are those even words?” Choked out Allura, a giggle wrapped around her words, and Lance hugged her closer as his nightmare began to materialize around them.  
  
“Who knows?” He replied, a grin shaking its way onto his face as her hand reached up to cover his own. “Maybe in another dimension they are!”  
  
“No, we’re not too late!” Screamed Hunk, diving towards the black fog of Galra fighters assaulting Earth as Zarkon’s flagship readied its world-destroying weapon. “We can still save it!”  
  
“Hunk, watch out!” Shouted Pidge, bounding after him with the Black Lion barely a tick behind. “This fleet isn’t a joke! Hunk, slow down!”  
  
“No!” Wailed Hunk. “My moms are still down there! My siblings!”  
  
“Hunk, stop!” Yelled Lance as his friend shot towards a small, rapidly closing gap between two battleships. “You can’t make that! We need to go around!”  
  
“_No!_” Bellowed Hunk, careening toward the hole. “This is the fastest way!”  
  
“Hunk, stop!” Begged Pidge, shooting after him. “Don’t do this!”  
  
“Guys, I need backup here!” Yelled Shiro as the battleships opened fire on the Blue and Red Lions a few feet away. “There are too many of them!”  
  
“We are becoming encircled!” Warned Allura. “We must retreat and—”  
  
“HUNK, STOP!”  
  
The Green Lion body-slammed the Yellow Lion, bouncing off and crashing into one of the battleship’s sides with a sickening CLUNK as the Yellow Lion bounded into the space between the two ships.  
  
The screech of metal tearing through metal, of Hunk desperately trying to pilot his way through, of glass shattering and smashing nearly made Lance sick to his stomach.  
  
His comm to Hunk went dark.  
  
“Help!” Screamed Pidge, the sizzle of lasers crackling over her comm. “They’re boarding Green!”  
  
“Get out through the glass!” Yelled Lance, clutching the joystick like his life depended on it and willing the tears from his eyes. “Jump through!”  
  
“Into empty space?!” Retorted Pidge, a sharp yelp following her statement.  
  
“We’ll catch you!” Shouted Lance, gunning it towards the battleship as a bolt of purple flew past his window.  
  
“Allura, look out!” Roared Shiro, diving in front of the Red Lion and taking two frying ion blasts to the face.  
  
One went straight through, and Allura’s scream tore through the comms and drained all the breath from Lance’s body. The Castle of Lions was desperately trying to get in touch with them, Keith’s face was whiter than a ghost, and Pidge was crying out over the comms. Lance didn’t think he remembered how to breathe.  
  
He would have to breathe later.  
  
“Pidge, jump!” He ordered. “We’ll get you. I promise.”  
  
He couldn’t see. Lance’s vision was a mask of tears, the grief overflowing down his face and stabbing his voice until it sounded like a shattered version of his usual chirping. But he couldn’t let it be part of this battlefield. He couldn’t let it take more people from him.  
  
Allura’s comm sputtered out.  
  
Shiro’s had gone black.  
  
Keith trembled beside him, eyes bursting at the seams, and chest heavy and still. He wasn’t breathing. _Keith wasn’t breathing._  
  
“You’d better catch me!” Hollered Pidge, her voice thick with sobs, and Lance’s heart lurched into his throat.  
  
“Keith,” he whispered, reaching out to touch his comrade’s shoulder. “Do you need me to fly?”  
  
His hand slid from the joystick in response, and Lance clasped it in his free hand as he used the other one to shoot towards his gremlin of a comrade.  
  
“We’re on our way, Pidge!”  
  
“I’ve got to jump now!” Wailed the smaller girl, and Lance’s head was getting fuzzy and his vision was dancing with black and his hands were shaking and his best friend was dead and his space sister and father were dead and his planet was under attack and his kids were dying and Keith still wasn’t breathing and Pidge was jumping and Lance had to keep it together, _he had to do this, he had to keep them alive, he had to win, had to protect them, had to get to Pidge, had to bring Keith back to reality, had to save Earth, **had to breathe—**_  
  
Lance let out a wordless battle cry and plunged forwards, snatching Pidge into the Lion’s mouth and pulling her back.  
  
“Gotcha, Pidgeon,” he whispered.  
  
The planet-destroying weapon roared to life, and Lance whipped his head toward it with a silent scream. He grabbed the controls and twisted them towards the—  
  
The sizzling ray of light shot through the stars, arcing down and slicing straight through the center of the Earth. Lance felt his heart stop. No.  
  
Then the planet exploded, shards of the planet he loved assaulting the Black Lion.  
  
“Lance, get us out of here!” Shouted Pidge, and Lance tried to, really he did, but he couldn’t move and couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think and couldn’t—  
  
“Lance!” Cried Keith, snatching the joystick, and Lance’s vision fizzled out along the edges. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, _he couldn’t get a single atom of air to enter his freaking lungs—_  
  
A mountain drove into the Black Lion’s cockpit, spearing Keith in the stomach and crushing Pidge’s scream. Lance blinked. The stones were inches from his face, rising up to meet him, and he felt so completely empty.  
  
Both his families, the most important people in his life, the ones he would give anything to protect—gone.  
  
Still, he tried to raise his hand to guard his face against the spires. He was the universe’s last hope.  
  
Then—nothing.

  


“Lan, breathe,” whispered Allura, still clinging to him from her own nightmare and trying to rub circles into his back. “Please, please, Lan, breathe. Everything is fine. Earth is okay. We are okay.”  
  
“‘Lura?” Murmured Lance, winding his arms around her back and burying his nose in her shoulder.  
  
“It is me, Lan,” she promised, her voice frayed and hands trembling. “Everyone is safe. Earth is safe. I promise. Remember, you told me just dobashes ago?”  
  
Lance blinked, suddenly aware of the grating air stinging his lungs and the quiet breathing of Allura. He tried to sync his breaths to hers.  
  
“Right,” he whispered. “Right. We’re all okay. Just another nightmare.”  
  
“That’s right,” agreed Allura, pulling back and cupping his face in her hands. “It was a nightmare. Both of them.”  
  
Lance covered her hands with his and let out a slow, hitching exhale. Allura pressed her forehead to his. “V vedal fxd,” she murmured.  
  
“Incondicionalmente,” came Lance’s immediate response.  
  
Allura’s hands stilled. She could feel the warmth pulsing from Lance’s forehead; he was not skewered by a fighter ship. Lance’s shoulders unwound one muscle at a time. He could count the steady pulse of Allura’s breath; she was not incinerated by an ion cannon.  
  
They were alive.  
  
They were safe.  
  
Lance inhaled slowly.  
  
Allura exhaled, keeping time.  
  
“Thank you,” murmured Lance. “Thank you for being here with me.”  
  
Allura smiled, running her hand through his hair and settling it on his shoulder. They had stopped heaving.  
  
“Thank _you_,” she whispered. “I am glad we did that together.”  
  
“Yeah, big time,” snorted Lance. “I swear, if we don’t get at least a five dobash break after that—!”  
  
Allura giggled, and the two pulled back in unison. Their eyes, both blue, but different shades, shone in the light flickering from the ceiling. Allura couldn’t help but laugh quietly; Lance’s were darker than hers. How fitting for the Black Paladin.  
  
“Alright,” she murmured.  
  
“Alright,” repeated Lance, a grin tentative on his lips.  
  
Allura beamed, and the two rose with hands still tightly clasped between them. Lance’s lungs were sandpaper, and Allura’s throat felt like someone had taken a box of nails to it, but they still smiled at one another with uncontained love.  
  
No matter what came next, they could conquer it together. They would be the first. That was what Voltron did, after all.  
  
“‘Lura—” started Lance.  
  
The ceiling crackled, golden lightning forking along the tiles and spreading a spiderweb over the two paladins. Allura’s crystalline eyes went wide, and Lance’s words died on his lips. The electricity crackled across the roof, wrapping around itself and tangling its way over the entire room.  
  
Allura wrapped an arm around Lance’s waist. Lance’s arm braced Allura’s shoulders.  
  
The quintessent lightning flared, each flicker shooting above the paladins and curling into a throbbing sphere of death for just two ticks.  
  
Allura and Lance acted as one. They dropped to their knees, each one supporting the other with one arm.  
  
Their free arms rose, crossing their comrade’s to create an X over their heads. They grinned, and as the lightning arced towards them, they only curled more tightly around the other. Neither bothered to say their chant.  
  
They already knew their bond was made of unconditional trust.  
  
The lightning seared into their arms, their fingers tightened around each other, and everything went white.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	15. The Bonds We Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith threw the fighter ship into a barrel roll, zipping through two battleships and gunning out their control rooms.  
  
“Pidge, two cleared!” He called into the comms. “How are you guys doing?”

Keith threw the fighter ship into a barrel roll, zipping through two battleships and gunning out their control rooms.  
  
“Pidge, two cleared!” He called into the comms. “How are you guys doing?”  
  
“We reversed the currents of maybe a fifth of the fleet?” She replied, whirling past him to eat one of the smaller ships and throw it into another one. “They still had their fighter ships inside!”  
  
“Blue and I are doing well,” cheered Shiro, a blast of ice careening through the battlefield and narrowly missing Keith’s wing. “Lance was right; I just need to let her be a mama lion and she won’t get huffy.”  
  
Keith snorted; he knew for a fact that Shiro was nearly impossible to take care of. From refusing to take his medicine because _I’m not sick, Keith, I just slept wrong_ to working past midnight because _Adam, the administration doesn’t care if I’m sick or not, they care if I get my grades in_ and one notable incident where he nearly threw up in front of all his students after a simulator demonstration. Keith insulting James to distract Iverson and Adam sneaking Shiro away was the only reason he made it to the bathroom that time.  
  
Keith gave Blue a mental scratch behind the ears for dealing with his older brother.  
  
“Yellow’s having a blast!” Cheered Hunk. “He…uh, I guess we have something to show you guys!”  
  
“Well, let it rip then!” Shouted Keith, spinning away from a barrage of lasers. “We need to bring it all right now!”  
  
“Okay!”  
  
Hunk swallowed, looking down at his bayard and relaxing into the gentle purr of Yellow caressing his mind.  
  
_“You will impress them,”_ rumbled Yellow fondly. _“Let us show them what it means to be Voltron’s Yellow Team.”_  
  
Hunk grinned, the color of the cockpit lightening to the same sunflower yellow as his childhood bedroom. His fingers tightened around his bayard and he shoved it into the offered slot, twisting as his eyes glowed.  
  
“Let’s bring it, then!”

  


Lance peered from under his arm, one hand as tight on Allura’s shoulder as her own fingers were on his waist. He glanced to the side, his eyes meeting with Allura’s immediately, and everything he had prepared to ask tumbled back into his stomach. His eyes burned, and a strange flash reflected off of Allura’s crystalline irises as if in response. Neither could so much as breathe. They didn’t even understand what they were seeing.

  


The Yellow Lion’s head flung back, his mouth opening and light swirling around his teeth into a sphere. Hunk’s smile grew wider, Yellow’s pride flooding through his mind and filling him with warmth all the way to his toes. He believed in himself constantly, but true pride was that rare treat he only allowed himself to share with his friends. And Yellow was one of his dearest friends of all time.  
  
“Whooooooooo!” Cheered Hunk, whipping Yellow’s head forward and launching their comet across the battlefield. “Guardian of the Land present and kicking butt on the battlefield, people!”  
  
“Hunk, that is sick!” Cried Pidge. “Way to go! Are you controlling it?”  
  
“Yep!” Replied Hunk, rubbing his cheek as it began to ache from smiling so widely. “Yellow and I have been practicing in our down time! It’s a new feature!”  
  
“Good work, Hunk,” stated Keith, his eyes softening warmly at his friend. “I’m proud of you, big guy.”  
  
“That’s amazing, Hunk,” agreed Shiro. “It’s not everyday you see a lion hurling comets around the battlefield. But, then, I guess you are a master of hurling, aren’t you?”  
  
“Aw, come on Shiro!” Complained Hunk, sending the team into a spree of laughter that he was more than happy to join in on.  
  
“But, seriously,” continued Shiro, “Nice job, Hunk. I know you worked hard for this.”  
  
Hunk beamed until he was worried his cheeks would split, and met Shiro’s eyes through the video feed.  
  
“Thanks, Shiro,” he managed to get past his all-consuming smile. “I know you did too with that ice beam.”  
  
The two had trained together for vargas outside of the Castle of Lions, melding with their Lions, flying simulated battle situations, trying to connect enough for them to move forward in their relationships. Hunk vividly remembered bursting into tears after Yellow got into an argument with him about doing this for the team, and Shiro flying out of Blue and knocking on Yellow’s head until Hunk let him in. Then he just enveloped the larger boy in a hug and let him cry, comforting any attempts at blame and promising that they were going to succeed. Not because they needed to, but because these were their Lions, and everyone really just wanted someone to understand them. They were the only ones who could do that for their Lions. Shiro had promised that they would do this together, as a team, and as part of a Lion-Paladin duo. He made Hunk believe that he could succeed.  
  
“Really,” added Hunk warmly. “Thank you, Shiro.”  
  
“Same to you, Hunk.”

  


“Welcome, Paladins of Voltron,” said Yalfan, standing from her dais and smiling at the two crouched figures as the room suddenly exploded with whispers and other not-so-quiet forms of indignation. “I see your bond. Congratulations; you are the first to pass our trials. As such, you and your people are now and forever the allies of the Mevucs. We pledge to defend you as we would any of our own, and we will henceforth rely upon your support in turn. Please rise.”  
  
Lance kept his eyes fixed on Allura, slowly lowering his arm as he stood, his hand still firm on her shoulders. Allura’s hand never strayed from his waist, her eyes fixed on his and free palm slowly reaching out to cup his cheek.  
  
“Lance,” she whispered reverently, her thumb resting just under the corner of his eye.  
  
Lance reached out in response, threading his fingers through her hair and cradling a lock with eyes that should have surpassed human limits by now.  
  
“How?” He breathed.  
  
Yalfan tilted her head, a low rumble shaking her entire body in what was probably the Mevucian version of a chuckle.  
  
“Did you not know?” She asked. “Part of being bonded is granting one another a treasured characteristic of yourself. Those who are bonded share a past, a present, and a future. Linking these characteristics connects your pasts to one another, and the soul bond tattoo on your arms act as a tie to your future together.”  
  
Lance nodded dumbly, the lock of hair resting in his hand still absorbing all of his attention. Allura’s slight waves were gone, replaced by beautiful, tight curls of white matching his grandmother’s and cascading like a waterfall down her back.  
  
“You look beautiful,” he breathed.  
  
“So do you,” whispered Allura, the blue Altean marks on his cheeks glowing faintly under her touch. “Though your ears are still hideous.”  
  
“Oh please,” scoffed Lance, grinning as tears collected at the edge of his eyes. “You know you like them.”  
  
“Mmmm, perhaps,” teased Allura, poking the mark once more and giggling as the glow vanished, revealing dark blue marks surpassing even her father in the depth of their color.  
  
She was sure hers did too now. She was not Alfor, and Lance was not Zarkon. And the hair she bore, the marks he wore, both stood as beautiful proof of that alongside the matching tattoos of blue stars lined in red emblazoned on the arms they had blocked the quintessent lightning with.  
  
“No matter where you go now,” stated Yalfan, a strange warmth filling her eyes. “Every galaxy and planet must do what the universe itself has done now. They must recognize that you two bear a sibling bond.”

  


Keith dove behind a battleship, allowing the other fighter to crash headlong into the cabin as he careened away from the explosion.  
  
“Keith, you okay over there?” Called Shiro just as Pidge materialized over the small fighter.  
  
Her vines tore past him, latching around the battleship and flinging it into a nearby one targeting the smaller ship.  
  
“Yeah,” replied Keith, doing a quick circle around Pidge’s head as thanks. “I’m doing fine. Coran, how’s the Castle holding up?”  
  
“Tip-top shape, my dear boy!” Chirped Coran as a barrage of blue bolts whipped past him, peppering small fighters into submission. “By my numbers, we have eliminated a little over two-fifths of the enemy fleet!”  
  
“Acxa?” Asked Keith. “You doing okay? Krolia, are the Blades good?”  
  
“Our ships are certainly performing quite well,” stated Acxa, and Keith could practically see Pidge’s double eye roll at the stiffness of the reply.  
  
“The Blade has disabled two of the battleships,” stated Krolia. “Our help is virtually nonexistent besides that.”  
  
Shiro’s comm abruptly cut out, and Keith had to bite back his snicker as he imagined his brother bent double in Blue laughing his head off at the brutal honesty of Krolia. Pidge’s cheeks turned red at the effort of hiding her amusement, and Hunk tried to hide his own guffaws in battle cries as he attacked the Galra battleships. Based on the slight twitch of Krolia’s lips, it hadn’t worked as well as the Yellow Paladin had wanted it to.  
  
Well, Keith wasn’t complaining.  
  
“Okay, I’m going to try—”  
  
A blast clipped his wing, jerking Keith into enemy fire before he could get control of the stick again. Flying in Black was so much easier than piloting this floating pile of junk!  
  
“Keith, your left!” Shrieked Pidge, tearing in front of Keith as one of the battleships unleashed a flurry of blasts upon the smaller ship.  
  
“Thanks, Pidge!” Shouted Keith, grabbing the controls to shoot down and swoop behind a group of enemy fighters, allowing the bolts to rip through wings and blow apart cockpits as he gunned it.  
  
A light flashed on his dashboard, and Keith was suddenly slammed with a memory that was over three phoebs old now. Shooting towards Lance and Shiro as fast as he could, wondering if either of them were okay as he was chased by a Galra battleship, the cabin filling with red light and beeping so deafening he almost missed Lance’s call…  
  
Lance’s call!

  


“Keith?” Asked Lance as the signal was picked up. “Oh, gracias a Dios, you’re okay! We just got your transmission; sorry, the stupid quintessence fields were messing with our comms! Anyway, we’ll be there as soon as we can! Are you guys holding up okay?”  
  
“We’re managing,” replied Keith, not even blinking at the mention of quintessence fields; he had seen plenty of the trials Lance and Allura had endured through their mind melds in the Black Lion. “But I’m not sure how long that’s going to hold up. Allura, can you open a wormhole and jump the Red Lion to our location?”  
  
Allura twisted to look at the screen from her seat, lips pursed and eyebrows knit together.  
  
“Not without the Castle to steady the wormhole,” she stated. “At least, I have never tried it before…”  
  
“The Princess cannot do that!” Cried Coran, his voice distorting through the two lines of video. “Allura, not even your father could create wormholes without a way to steady and channel the energy! And in this case, the fact that you have more quintessence than him would only make it all the harder for you to keep the portal from powering into the wrong dimension or an alternate reality!”  
  
Allura frowned, leaning back in her Lion and studying Keith through the screen. His helmet was cracked, his gritted teeth glinting and fists tight around the controls. His cabin was lit a sharp red, and when their eyes locked, he simply raised an eyebrow. A question, yes. But a dare too.  
  
Allura turned to Lance.  
  
“If I do not try, then we have no chance of reaching the battlefield in time to provide assistance,” she began carefully, “but if we fail, we shall be crushed into cosmic dust, risk tearing a hole through the space-time continuum, and/or find ourselves in an alternate reality or dimension.”  
  
Lance’s eyebrow slid up behind his bangs and a smirk crossed his lips as he flopped his chin onto the top of her chair.  
  
“Oh nooooooooo,” he teased. “Sooooo much worse than getting fried by quintessent lightning.”  
  
Allura let out a tinkling peal of laughter and eyed her controls, but Lance’s finger tapped her shoulder lightly. “Seriously though, are you good on quintessence? I don’t want you to run out.”  
  
Allura cocked her head, then flicked a finger gun at him along with a dashing smile.  
  
“I’m perfect~” She teased. “Thanks for asking.”  
  
“‘Lura, you make me blush,” joked Lance, fanning his face and biting back a flood of laughter.  
  
Allura grinned, reaching up to take his hand and interlace their fingers as all the laughter in her smile was replaced by an unmistakable warmth.  
  
“I’ve got this, Lan,” she promised. “The fields replenished my quintessence. And you know I have to try. You pilot Red through; I’ll open the wormhole.”  
  
“Princess, you cannot!” Pleaded Coran. “No Altean has ever done this before! It is impossible!”  
  
Allura could practically feel Lance’s smile, and she tucked a curl behind her ear as Lance’s Altean marks caught the cabin’s light. He moved behind her, hands taking over the controls while leaving her in the seat of honor. She was Voltron’s Red Paladin, after all.  
  
“Coran,” she said, though it sounded more like an order as she stood from her seat. “When we began this war, forming Voltron seemed impossible. Defeating Zarkon seemed impossible. Having nearly won the war already should be impossible.”  
  
Pidge’s whoop passed through the comms, and Hunk gave one of his cheer/shouts that Lance liked to call his baby Simba roars. Shiro called encouragement, and Keith locked eyes with the two of them. He grinned. Allura’s body began to hum as pink quintessence swirled around her, thin lines dancing over her body and circling her head.  
  
“But, Princess—!”  
  
“It’s not that we have been able to do the impossible because we are Voltron,” interrupted Allura, her eyes and voice fiercer than any lion, and her hands glowed a searing pink as all the quintessence she had amassed flowed down into them, shining like a beautiful opportunity; a chance she could finally take. _“We are Voltron because we have done the impossible!”_  
  
Allura slammed her hands onto the arm rests, quintessence flooding from her body and spiraling into space like a whip cracking through the galaxy, and the Red Lion’s roar turned into a cannon of pure energy. Allura hissed, chin jerking up and eyes squeezed shut, nails digging crescents into the pilot’s chair. Lance’s fingers curled over the controls as the entire cabin shook, the Red Lion vibrating with blindingly pink quintessence, and their communications with Keith shorted out.  
  
The blast of energy spun, twisting and crackling with a barely controlled blaze, coiling itself into a giant spitting nautilus shell. Lance would have smiled at the familiar shape (his nephew always wanted to find one when they went to the beach), but Allura’s head snapped into the back of the chair and a strangled shout of agony ripped itself from her mouth.  
  
Lance spun, Allura’s name already on his lips as a scream when Red’s purrs crashed over him. A warning. No, an order: stay silent. Lance got the distinct feeling that distracting her now would fry the Lion, themselves, and possibly a chunk of the space-time continuum. He really didn’t want to have a giant hole in the universe to patch up either; he was pretty sure Voltron wasn’t exactly a healing robot, what with the giant sword and all.  
  
Allura’s screams grew higher, and Red’s vibrations shook Lance’s feet from under him, his back slamming just shy of the pilot’s chair with a silent cry. The energy was twisting from Allura, pulling at her skin and tearing from her hair, her jaw locked in agony and eyes so tightly shut that no tears could escape. She bent double.  
  
Lance flew at the controls, and Red’s bellow sent another bolt of crackling pink quintessence straight through the original one, shattering the sea shell and driving straight through the cosmos itself.  
  
Lance threw all his weight against the stick and blasted into the wormhole.  
  
It began to collapse behind him the moment they were in.

  


Keith tore away from the battleship’s fire, eyes darting to the communications panel and thumb rubbing circles into the necklace he knew matched the one swinging atop Lance’s armor right then. He just had to sit back and believe that they would be okay. If there was anyone who could pull some sort of impossible wormhole off, it was Allura. They would be okay. They had to be.  
  
“Keith, battleship!” Reminded Shiro, swooping past and sending lasers through the fighter ships around Keith. “Keep your eyes on it, kiddo!”  
  
“Kiddo? I am your commanding officer!” Teased Keith. “Thanks, Shiro. Watch out for the fighters on your left!”  
  
“Got it, _commanding officer_,” replied Shiro with a laugh as he launched directly into the cloud of ships preparing to pepper the Blue Lion.  
  
Keith cackled and jerked his controls to the right; he had an enemy battleship to lead into firing on its own ships again.  
  
The fighter sputtered.  
  
Keith blinked, the lights dimming around him, and he yanked on the controls again, eyes still fixated on the enemy battleship.  
  
The ship wouldn’t move. His left wing spat sparks into space, fracturing from the earlier blast it had taken and leaving wires exposed to the shrapnel of the battle.  
  
“Keith, look out!” Warned Pidge, dancing a few fleets away and leaving groaning heaps of vines in her wake. “Ion cannon’s on you!”  
  
“I! Can’t! Move!” Snapped Keith, kicking the controls and internally cursing these fighters for not having escape pods for him to rely on. “My wing’s out!”  
  
“I’ll come get you!” Promised Shiro, batting aside the last few fighters and bounding towards Keith as the cannon began to charge.  
  
“Fighters incoming from behind!” Shouted Hunk, and Keith spun in his seat to see what the Yellow Paladin was talking about.  
  
Three lasers shattered the ship’s engines and Keith was hurled from his seat as the ion cannon locked in on the ship that all the Lions followed. The weapon glowed, quintessence swirling towards it and winding into a tiny black meteor.  
  
Warlord Trugg raised her hand, a smile revealing her fangs and curling creases underneath her slitted, yellow eyes.  
  
“Fire.”

  


Shards of realities crashed down around Red, galaxies blinking past and a stray comet nearly tearing the Lion in half. Lance snarled, ripping the stick to the right and nearly taking out the wall of the wormhole as he tried to not get them all crushed.  
  
Allura had gone ramrod straight, quintessence crackling off of her and screams higher than Lance could hear, jaw locked in agony. Her brain felt like someone had thrown it into an active volcano and she wasn’t sure if it was being melted, jettisoned through the atmosphere, or burning itself to a crisp. She couldn’t think long enough to distinguish anything other than the neverending flood of pain consuming her body, her identity, _her very being—_  
  
Acxa’s gentle smile brushed against her mind. The soft linking of their arms, the way she called her Princess without any semblance of formality, with all fondness overriding decorum, the shine of her eyes when she first disembarked from that ship. Allura had known instantaneously, the tick Acxa’s radiant blue eyes matched hers, that this was the person she would dedicate her life to. Without hesitation. Only with love.  
  
Allura’s eyes flickered open. Red was overflowing with concern, the Lion’s mind curled around her own as if to shield her from the endless pain, and gentle purrs massaging her burning neurons. Lance was crouched in front of her, lightning-blue eyes fixed forwards and Altean marks glowing at the sheer quintessence surrounding him, his back unwavering and hands steady on the controls. Fearless as ever. It was one of the things they had in common even before their sibling bond, one of the reasons they were the two diplomats, and the biggest thing that allowed them to flip over one another, hit without looking, and dance on the battlefield as a team. It was the reason they trusted one another unconditionally.  
  
Allura relaxed into the pain, the fiery agony licking her bones to ash, the melting of her skin, the dissolving of her muscles. She opened her eyes fully and Red gave a final roar.  
The wormhole imploded.

  


“Ion cannon disabled,” reported the ship’s sentries.  
  
Warlord Trugg scowled, and the door hissed open behind her. Odd; the sentries all knocked, and all their living troops had been captured or deserted ages ago. Had Ladnok arrived by escape pod because her battleship was destro—  
  
“You,” snarled a voice that was most certainly not Ladnok’s, “have made a mistake.”  
  
Trugg flipped away from the controls, snatching for her gun and spinning to confront her foe.  
  
Adam crouched, arrows whizzing around the room and striking each sentry as it rose from its chair, and the Galran woman in front of him moved faster than any cannon. Krolia fired twice, whipping out her Blade and streaking across the ship. Trugg dove beneath the blasts, flipping a knife into her hand and raising it just in time to intercept Krolia’s strike.  
  
“Next time,” hissed Krolia, her gun pressed into Trugg’s stomach, “don’t target my son.”  
  
The shot blew all the breath from Trugg, and Krolia slammed her elbow into the back of the Warlord’s head, letting her crumple to an unconscious heap on the floor. Adam shot the last sentry, flashing her a thumbs up, and Matt dashed through the door.  
  
“Sorry,” he panted. “The corridor had more guards than I’d thought.”  
  
Krolia just smiled and radioed the fleet.  
  
“Trugg’s flagship has been conquered,” she stated. “The ion cannon will be up, running, and on our side momentarily.”  
  
“Thank you, Krolia!” Called Shiro. “How are Adam and Matt?”  
  
“We’re fine, Takashi,” promised Adam as Matt made a beeline for the main computer and begun to override the bug he had activated only ticks before. “Is our reckless lion alive out there?”  
  
“I can hear you!” Complained Keith. “So yeah, alive!”  
  
Granted, he wasn’t sure how long that would last. Not having a purple death ray about to shoot him out of the cosmos was very helpful, but the only reason he hadn’t been sniped to death by the fleet behind him was Shiro’s cover. Keith still couldn’t get the fighter to so much as react, and he was maybe two ticks away from embedding his knife into the stupid controls just to see if that would work! Not like it could make things much worse at this point!  
  
“Keith!” Screamed Pidge. “Your front!”  
  
Keith slammed the guns, which mercifully decided to respond, and unloaded his ammunition into the enemy fighter ship.  
  
“Thanks, Pidge!” He shouted. “How are you all doing?”  
  
“I’m making progress on the Northern side!” Promised Hunk.  
  
“Eastern is doing well!” Replied Acxa.  
  
“Almost wrapped up on the Southern front!” Replied Pidge. “Just a few more battleships and a couple dozen fighters!”  
  
“Great!” Yelled Keith, the blasts hammering his ship and jerking him around in the cabin, red flashing consuming his vision. “When you get a chance, try to call Allu—!”  
  
A laser shattered the glass and Keith bolted out of his seat as shrapnel tore across the cabin. The oxygen fled from the ship, sucked into space, and Keith scrabbled for any sort of handhold as his team’s shrieks flooded his helmet. The vacuum snatched at Keith’s armor, yanking at him as he clung to a bent piece of metal that had lined the front of the cockpit. His jet pack sputtered behind him, a shard of glass impaled in one of its tubes and just shy of pricking through to his back.  
  
The enemy opened fire, bolts whizzing through space and shredding his handhold, the heat of the blasts nearly melting his undersuit. Keith jerked his head beneath one of the shots, snarling as he clung to the last thin, scorched, cracking strip of metal connecting him to—well, to anything.  
  
He strained, dragging himself forward and stretching out his fingers to brush the inside of the cockpit. If he could just reach that stupid stick, so broken it couldn’t even move, he might be able to pull himself inside…!  
  
“Keith, where are you?” Shouted Shiro, and Keith’s grunt splintered between his gritted teeth.  
  
If he could just reach…!  
  
A laser snapped the metal, and Keith made a final lunge for the cockpit as a bolt of blue crackled towards his head. His fingers stretched taut, the bullet streaked towards him, and space yanked him away from the cockpit.  
  
Keith’s fingers slid just shy of safety.  
  
The laser launched so close he could feel the heat searing at his helmet.  
  
Keith clutched his necklace and raised his shield. Then he closed his eyes and braced himself.  
  
The force was like a train, flinging him from his feet and blasting him back against the wall. Keith’s head snapped back, cracking the helmet and popping white-hot stars behind his eyes as he narrowly avoided a concussion. He dropped to his knees, the shield crumbling on his wrist, and the cold metal beneath him strangely familiar.  
  
Keith laughed quietly.  
  
“That’s the second time, huh, Lance?” He murmured, slumping against the wall of the Red Lion and exhaling slowly.  
  
“Predictably terrifying as ever, huh, Mullet?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be absolutely clear, Lance is not Altean and Allura is not human. They just now share a physical characteristic with one another due to their bond.
> 
> gracias a Dios=Thank God
> 
> I own nothing!


	16. The New Voltron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He is good,” promised a voice sweeter than any flower or honey. “Shiro, please do not bother returning to his last location; we are all going to return to the Castle temporarily so that the Black Lion may join in the battle.”  


“What was that pink thing?” Shouted Shiro, pressing the communications button and trying to pull up a video feed of Keith. “Did anyone see a flash?”  
  
“Yeah, kinda?” Replied Pidge, veering around another battleship and crushing its cannon with her roots. “I just finished up over here; you want me to check it out?”  
  
“Yes please,” sighed Shiro. “I’m going to get Keith, he’s not responding.”  
  
“Is he okay?” Called Hunk, the echo of explosions rocking the transmission. “Keith? You alive?”  
  
“He is good,” promised a voice sweeter than any flower or honey. “Shiro, please do not bother returning to his last location; we are all going to return to the Castle temporarily so that the Black Lion may join in the battle.”  
  
Shiro’s heartbeat screamed in his ears, and he reached out to tap the video transmission for the Red Lion.  
  
Allura picked up immediately. She was slumped in her chair, a faint smile tugging at her lips, and Lance was plunked on the ground in front of her, piloting the Lion with blood dribbling from under his helmet.  
  
“Hiya!” He chirped. “Can confirm, Keith’s on his way up to the cabin! Be ready to form Voltron when we get back; I’m pretty sure we’re all too tired for any sort of drawn-out battle.”  
  
“Princess!” Cried Coran, his own transmission springing to life in the Red Lion and tears streaming down his cheeks. “You are okay!”  
  
“Yes, Coran,” soothed Allura, and Lance gave the older man a thumbs-up. “I am sorry to have worried you. The wormhole was a success.”  
  
“It imploded halfway through,” added Lance cheerily. “Allura just punched her way through on sheer quintessence alone.”  
  
“Hush, peasant,” groaned Allura, shoving Lance’s head lightly, smile widening as he batted at her hands in response. “We are just fine.”  
  
“Now that is true!” Agreed Lance, the door swishing open behind him. “Ok, we’ll be at the Castle soon! Oh, Shiro, that pink flash thing was probably our wormhole, bye!”  
  
The screen went black, and Acxa’s face replaced it barely a tick later, lip split and a harsh bruise decorating her cheek.  
  
“The Eastern front is finished!” She declared. “But our ships are all out of commission. Pushing any further would risk serious casualties.”  
  
“Don’t worry, General,” called Lance over the comms, nearly shaking Acxa from her feet at the sudden voice. “I think we’ll have it covered.”

  


Keith sunk into his pilot’s chair in Black with a shoulder-heaving groan, and Lance flickered a glance over from where he was trying to stem the bleeding beneath his helmet.  
  
“Keith?” He asked, swabbing at the red trickle and slapping a large band-aid over the wound. “Do you want some water? We can take a tick to rest, you know. I think we both could use it.”  
  
Keith shook his head, extending a hand for Lance and lacing their fingers the moment he had a hold of it.  
  
“No,” he breathed. “I’m okay. Is Allura holding up?”  
  
Lance grimaced, squeezing his hand and dropping their palms over the joystick as flint flashed in his eyes.  
  
“She’s so going to pass out when this is over,” he muttered. “But she’s insistent on flying back out, and I’m not stupid enough to try and convince her. Red Paladins are all stubborn, reckless heartstoppers, but I think she’s the worst out of all of us.”  
  
“For sure,” grumbled Keith as Black hummed to life beneath their touch. “Let’s get this over with and drag her to the med bay.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” agreed Lance, a smile sneaking across his face and a flower pattern flicking itself across the back of Keith’s hand as Lance’s blue marks began to glow. “When this is over…there’s something I want to tell you. Is that okay?”  
  
Black let out a roar, and Keith tightened his hold on Lance, a smile overtaking his face at the adorable way Lance’s freckles seemed to light up like stars under the Altean glow. His heart was going to overload by the end of this, and it would have nothing to do with the adrenaline of the battle at all. But he’d blame it on that if it did.  
  
“Okay,” he whispered. “Looking forward to it, partner.”  
  
Lance’s entire face lit up like a sunflower and, as they slammed the joystick down, their minds slipped over one another like waves on a beach. Like two hands clasping, two hearts melding, like red and blue swirling into purple, like a promise of what their tomorrow would look like.  
  
_I got you._

  


Warlord Ladnok paced in her flagship, growling at the sentries and glaring daggers at the screen littered with destroyed ships. Trugg, useless! All her ships had already been wiped out! Ladnok still had most of her fleet, though the Yellow and Blue Lions had done an infuriating amount of damage on either side. The Empire’s fleet had finally stopped its advance though, so maybe if she retreated now, she could infiltrate and strike Lotor directly while all his generals were still out on the battlefield. And with Trugg out of the way, she could take control of the Galra Empire without any opposers.  
  
“Set a course back for the Capitol!” Ordered Ladnok, stalking past the sentries and taking command at the head of the bridge. “I’ll finish off that halfling prince; his head is still too small for such a large crown. And then I shall finish what Zarkon begun.”

  


“So, how is this going to work?” Called Pidge as they all streaked towards the remaining fleet, the flagship beginning to twist to the side for escape. “I mean, we’ve never tried this with all six of us before; what’s it going to look like?”  
  
“Maybe Voltron will have two heads!” Joked Lance, grinning at Pidge’s eyebrow raise in the video feed. “The handsome one is me!”  
  
“Or maybe one of you controls the head and the other is the torso?” Suggested Hunk. “Like, that one takes care of battling part and the head handles planning?”  
  
“We’re not going to know,” cut in Keith. “Not until we form Voltron. Pidge, I need that blade to be sharp; Allura, you focus on staying conscious and linked with us. We’ll handle the rest.”  
  
Allura saluted, blue eyes locking with his and the slightest nod registering on the screen. Lance’s shoulders unclenched, and he squeezed Keith’s hand with a tiny smile. Keith tightened his hold around Lance’s fingers and blew out a short, sharp breath. A familiar warmth nudged his mind.  
  
_“We got this,”_ Lance whispered through their link, sea eyes softening like the sun glittering off freshly crashing waves. _“We’re a good team, you know. And whatever happens, Black chose us both. I trust them. We’ll be okay.”_  
  
Black grumbled, the black lion in their mindscape butting Keith’s back so hard he tumbled forwards. Lance lunged to catch him, and a cosmic chuckle resounded as Lance cradled Keith carefully in his arms. A sheen of red consumed Keith’s face in a tick flat, and Lance’s marks became fireworks on his cheeks. _“Black!”_ He complained.  
  
_“Listen to the tall one,”_ stated Black, golden eyes fixed on Keith’s. _“I know what I am doing. As do you.”_  
  
Keith blinked, the cockpit swarming back to fill his eyes, and Lance’s voice echoing in his ears.  
  
“Flagship in range!” He declared, eyes flitting to Keith. “Is everyone ready?”  
  
Keith held the gaze, unfathomably deep blue eyes blazing into his unwavering violet irises, and Black hummed in the back of their minds. Keith inhaled slowly.  
  
_“I trust you both,”_ he promised. _“I’m ready. Let’s see what we can do.”_  
  
Lance’s smile curled into his eyes, creasing his new marks and wrinkling his nose like a bunny’s as he nodded. Keith beamed, repressing the urge to reach out and poke the blue chevrons shining on his love’s cheeks. He was going to have to find a time to thank Allura for that later.  
  
“I was born ready!” Whooped Pidge, taking her position on the left upper side and throwing a thumbs-up at Lance and Keith.  
  
“Let’s do this!” Cheered Hunk, sliding behind Pidge and tightening his hold on the controls.  
  
“I am prepared,” promised Allura, flying to their right and managing a smile at the two.  
  
“All set!” Agreed Shiro, bounding behind Allura and saluting Keith and Lance with the faintest smirk twitching across his lips.  
  
Lance and Keith’s fingers tightened over one another, their minds locking around one another and Black growling in preparation. They all roared as one.  
  
“Form Voltron!”  
  
Eleven sets of eyes glowed golden, and the Lions roared as their forms rippled, glowing with quintessence. Pidge’s armor shimmered with green energy, Hunk’s radiated golden light, and Shiro’s began to pulse a warm blue. Allura’s armor glowed with red, and black quintessence glittered over Lance and Keith’s forms.  
  
Their Lions’ sight washed over them, their forms and minds synchronizing like layers of music sliding over one another. The Blue Lion’s eyes gleamed as it slid into position beside the Yellow Lion, and the Red Lion vibrated with power alongside the Green Lion. Wings unfurled across the back, the headgear sharpening into horns, and the black lion head over the robot’s face finally glowed a warm golden.  
  
The sword rippled red with energy, the shield shining a faint green, and braces springing behind the legs that looked suspiciously like booster rockets waiting to be deployed.  
  
“I can see!” Burst out Pidge, fingers softening against the controls and smile nearly splitting her cheeks. “I can see through Green’s eyes! _Wow_ does she need glasses!”  
  
“Same here!” Added Hunk. “I mean, not the glasses thing, but the eyes thing! And I’m still a leg!”  
  
“This is amazing,” breathed Shiro, easing into seat and exhaling. “_Blue_ is amazing.”  
  
“Alright, Astrid,” teased Keith, triggering a ripple of laughter throughout the robot. “Nice to know you all have both your eyes. Now who’s ready to get this show on the road?”  
  
“Pidge, why are you craving peanut butter cookies so much?” Asked Lance, giggling as the links among the team sharpened. “Hunk, were you baking when the strike happened?”  
  
“I was so close to replicating them! Now they’ve probably sat out for too long!” Complained Hunk, jumping as a sharp tug came through the mind meld. “Um?”  
  
“Hunk, cannon!” Shouted Lance, drawing his own bayard as the slot opened for him. “Let’s give this a go! See what happens!”  
  
Keith summoned his bayard and Hunk’s Lion slid the compartment up.  
  
“Form Shoulder Cannon!” Roared the three paladins, slamming their weapons into the slots and twisting as their quintessence became a fireworks show.  
  
The energy spun from the Lions, coiling around itself and latching onto the shoulder of Voltron. The mass of light swirled into a familiar golden cannon, black markings scattered over the sides and barrel larger than before.  
  
“Fire!” Yelled Keith, and Hunk ripped his controls forwards.  
  
Meteors exploded from the cannon, weaving through the battlefield and smashing through fighter ships in a mosaic of explosions and debris. Four tore into a battleship, ripping through the hull and crushing the cabin into a rain of shattered glass and ravaged metal as explosions ruptured up from the engine room, cleaving the ship in half as blossoms of red death shredded metal to scraps.  
  
“Way to go, Hunk!” Whooped Pidge, pumping her fists in the air.  
  
A faint brush of black nudged at her mind, and Pidge could almost see that crooked smirk Lance always had two ticks before doing something so insane and moronic that it somehow worked. Pidge grinned, snapping the controls forwards and hurling the shield like a boomerang into another battleship, slicing through the metal like gooey peanut butter and ripping into the fleet behind it in an arc of destruction.  
  
“Nice one, Pidge!” Cheered Shiro, spinning to kick another fighter ship back into the cabin of a battleship like a soccer ball. “Let’s bring this on home, everyone!”  
  
Keith smirked at Lance, the taller boy’s golden eyes scrunched closed and quintessence stretching out towards the others like the roots of a tree. He could feel the warmth flooding out from his partner, the eyes of the crowning lion perched upon the head. Keith squeezed their laced fingers gently before sliding back into the lower head of Black.  
  
“Pidge, blast the one on the right!” He shouted. “Get ready to catch your boomerang shield thing! Hunk, can you do another meteor shower?”  
  
“On it!” Chorused the two paladins, and Keith spun Voltron to give them both the best angle.  
  
A faint black warmth flickered through the white fog consuming Allura’s mind, and the paladin blew out a quiet chuckle. Her quintessence flickered from red to pink and back again, her fingers vibrating against the arm rests, and Red’s roars beginning to sound more like wails with every passing tick.  
  
She hauled herself up, beads of sweat breaking across her brow and sliding past the Altean marks she shared with the boy now reaching out to give her strength.  
  
“I am okay,” Allura promised, the brushes in her mind as familiar as the shoulder nudges they had shared every meeting either to share silent amusement or to remind the other to not giggle aloud (sometimes hypocritically). “You have this, Lan. Show them what the new face of Voltron is capable of.”  
  
Lance’s mind enveloped her in warmth (she was guessing it was the cosmic equivalent of a hug?) and Red tore back in to curl protectively around her paladin, chasing away the white fog threatening to consume her.  
  
Allura just had to hold out. She could do that. She was a paladin of Voltron, after all.  
  
“Nice shot, Hunk!” Yelled Keith as a wave of battleships were reduced to lingering flames and scrap metal. “Pidge, other side!”  
  
Pidge’s shield ripped through another line of battleships, and Keith grinned as he finally got the call he had been waiting for. Matt’s face filled the screen and he flashed a thumbs up over the sizzle and grumbles of Adam and Krolia’s ongoing color war behind him.  
  
“We got those bombs rigged!” He reported, snickering as the screen flashed orange and Krolia let out a fiery squawk behind him. “We’re out of range! Thank Pidge for the cloaking tech!”  
  
“Will do,” replied Keith with a smirk. “Light ‘em up.”  
  
A fireworks show rocked the enemy fleet, tearing through half of the remaining battleships, and three rounds of cheering filled the comms. Krolia and Adam had raided the captured battleship and snagged every bomb they could find, sneaking behind the fleet in an escape pod and slipping the devices into four engine rooms. Or, what were engine rooms. The sizzling remains shredded fighters, ripping through wings and slashing engines into their own explosions. Shiro stomp-kicked another fighter through a line of smaller ships and Keith’s fingers tightened around the controls. They were so close now.  
  
_“Keith!”_ Whispered Lance, hand cupping his cheek in their mindscape and drawing him back from the Lion. _“Both our bayards! What would happen if we tried them together?”_  
  
_“Is Allura okay?”_ Asked Keith, covering Lance’s hand with his own.  
  
_“Kind of not,”_ replied Lance, shrugging as his lips pinched. _“But it’s more than that. We’re so close. I think this could work.”_  
  
_“A hunch?” _Teased Keith, tapping his forehead against Lance’s as the black lion paced a circle around them.  
  
_“You bet.”_  
  
_“Alright, Sharpshooter,”_ exhaled Keith, a smile playing on his lips and golden eyes locking with Lance’s matching ones. _“Let’s give it a go.”_  
  
“Hunk, drop the cannon!” Called Keith, jerking his bayard out and shivering as Allura’s energy wavered. “Lance and I are going to end this.”  
  
“Razzle dazzle time!” Declared Lance, his own bayard already clutched in his hand, and Hunk’s eyebrow formed an arch on his forehead.  
  
“Uh, alright? Good luck?”  
  
The golden cannon dissolved into flickers of light, and Pidge’s boomerang shield settled back into her hand. There was a moment of complete stillness on the shrieking battlefield. There was no preparation, no countdown, no waiting nod. As one, the Black Paladins readied their bayards and slammed them into the slots, twisting as the Black Lion let out a roar that could tear through galaxies all on its own.  
  
For a tick, nothing happened. Voltron hovered still, the remaining battleships preparing to destroy the robot, and Ladnok locked onto them with an ion cannon. Her lips wound into a grin, eyes nearly creased shut by the force of the smile and the delight of the kill. It was over.  
  
A hand materialized in front of the cabin as Voltron phased through the ship, and Ladnok was sent backpedalling as two sets of golden eyes blazed towards her out of a frenzied blur. A tiny green hand tapped at the controls, a blue one slashing through the piloting sentry, a red one brushing the disabling device for the ion cannon, and a yellow one grazed the engines. Ladnok barely noticed; her eyes fixed on the two black fists smashing her back into the wall, cracking her head against metal and knocking her eyes up into her head.  
She slumped to the floor, the ship losing power around her, and Voltron materialized on the opposite side of the flagship.  
  
The black bayards glowed once in the slots, and Black let out a rumble of something suspiciously akin to triumph. Lance exhaled, slow and long, at the same time as Keith inhaled, short and sharp. Their fingers remained wrapped around one another’s.  
  
_“Did you not see that coming?”_ Teased Black, jolting their paladins back to the battlefield. _“Such children still.”_  
  
Lance’s mouth flew open to protest, and Keith would have happily joined in that argument, but Shiro’s voice silenced them all.  
  
“Last three, everyone!”  
  
“Wait, but we just—!” Started Hunk, waving his arms as if rippling through space.  
  
“We’ll figure it out later!” Interrupted Keith, also pre-emptively silencing Pidge’s inevitable badgering about how exactly they had passed through a ship while interacting with it at the same time along with the physics, biology, and properties of quintessence that had led to such a phenomenon. “Shiro’s right, let’s finish off these battleships! Laser them, Pidge!”  
  
“Happily!”  
  
It was a very, very, _very_ brief light show after that.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	17. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance shrugged his one free shoulder (Allura had claimed the other as her pillow) and continued to card his fingers through Keith’s hair rhythmically. All the teams on the ship had blown off any and all other duties after that fight, thrown all their armor in a corner of the suits chamber, and locked themselves in different rooms to watch movies and relax.

“Well, of course we could connect to our Lions better,” snorted Pidge as the team sat huddled in a blanket fort with cups of hot irae clutched in their hands. “If you and Keith are the Black Paladins and have that _mind-link-shared-thoughts_ thing, then a level of that will spread into Voltron. It binds us to our Lions and to one another more tightly. But what was up with that whole _phasing-through-the-ship_ weirdness?”  
  
Lance shrugged his one free shoulder (Allura had claimed the other as her pillow) and continued to card his fingers through Keith’s hair rhythmically. All the teams on the ship had blown off any and all other duties after that fight, thrown all their armor in a corner of the suits chamber, and locked themselves in different rooms to watch movies and relax. Team Voltron had chosen Allura’s room since she was on bedrest. Shiro was snuggled against Adam’s back, his cheek resting on the bespectacled man’s shoulder and the faintest trail of drool winding its way towards Adam’s loose white shirt. Hunk was wrapped in three blankets and watching the movie intently, munching on snacks and trading comments on the couple with a chirpy Coran and Keith, whose head had somehow found its way into Lance’s lap. Matt’s legs had been claimed by a curled up Pidge, who was peppering Lance with questions as her brother leaned against the bed, nodding off.  
  
“Pidgey, you’re asking the wroooooooooong person,” Lance pointed out, not bothering to lower his voice; Allura was too buried in sleep for anything to wake her up at this point. “I’m guessing it was just some quintessence thingy. You know, changing the bunching of our quintessence (since it can’t be destroyed) to be able to pass through the ship and only assume its old shape when inside? Like how those green sticky goo things could fit through tiny holes and then assume their old blob form on the other side?”  
  
“So it changes the constraints?” Cried Pidge, beaming even as Hunk hushed her. “That’s so freaking cool!”  
  
“Shhhhhhh, science goblin,” murmured Matt, stroking her hair. “Let your bigger goblin brother sleep.”  
  
Pidge snickered, pushing her cheek against his knee and giving an exaggerated snore in response. Lance snorted and Allura snuggled closer to him, her white curls soft as they nudged his cheek. Soft footsteps gave Coran away as he snuck over, draping a blanket across the sleeping princess and carefully brushing a stray curl behind her ear.  
  
“Thank you, my boy,” he whispered, turning to Lance with indigo eyes softer than any velvet. “I am glad it was you with her on that mission. I know it made her feel far safer, and I have no doubt that you protected her. Thank you.”  
  
“We protected each other,” corrected Lance softly, turning just enough that their eyes could properly meet as he tapped the Altean marks dimpling his cheeks. “It’s what siblings do.”  
  
Coran’s eyebrows arched, and Lance blinked. Wait, they had never actually gotten around to explaining the extraordinarily obvious physical differences they had left the Fields of Yuleide with; everyone was too drained to even stay awake through a discussion on the weird teleporting thing Voltron had pulled earlier. Oh well. “Cosmic siblings. I’ll explain it later.”  
  
Coran chuckled, ruffling Lance’s hair and covering him with half of the blanket and a wink.  
  
“I look forward to your tale, Lance.”  
  
He trotted back over to Hunk then and continued to roast one of the choreographed fights with the Yellow Paladin, passing a bowl of sweet vegetable-like things between them. Keith heaved a full-body sigh.  
  
“You good down there, Samurai?” Asked Lance, a fond smile stealing over his lips as he resumed his finger brushing. “You going to fall asleep too?”  
  
“Hmmmm, no,” muttered Keith. “Still haven’t killed all the adrenaline.”  
  
“Trying to fight adrenaline only feeds it,” warned Lance, sneaking his free hand over to massage Keith’s shoulders. “Just relax, my main mullet man. I’ve got you.”  
  
Keith hummed, reaching up to cup Lance’s cheek and gently tilting his head until their eyes met. Lance loved Keith’s eyes. Well, he loved everything about Keith, including the things that drove him insane, but his eyes were something else. It was like peering into a new galaxy no one had ever discovered, unnamed stars sparkling just within reach and unknown possibilities stretching out endlessly. But it was a mystery only to those who didn’t take the time to really look. Keith’s eyes were beautiful to everyone, but stunning only to those who made the time to truly know the bruised, hotheaded, snarky, kind, brave, silently stupid, loyal, human side of Keith. Lance was always blown away by them.  
  
“You’re not relaxed either,” pointed out Keith quietly, thumb stroking over the blue marks decorating Lance’s face. “Still on edge from the fight?”  
  
“Which one?” Snorted Lance, continuing to massage the mountains of knots out of Keith’s shoulders. “I went from a death mob fight to a literal living nightmare to a crazy wormhole jump straight into a critical battle filled with things we’ve never even tried before. Take your pick.”  
  
Keith winced and Lance tossed out a laugh, turning his hands towards a particularly nasty knot. “Sorry, that came out a lot worse than I meant it to. I’m…yeah, I’m a little on edge.”  
  
“Lance,” murmured Keith, sitting up and turning to face the taller boy, his hand dropping from his partner’s cheek to wrap around the sun-kissed wrist. “Lance, look at me.”  
  
Lance blinked, lining up their gazes and smiling slightly, a faint blue glow lighting up his markings.  
  
“Hi,” he whispered.  
  
Keith smiled, finding Lance’s other wrist and rubbing slow, smooth circles into the backs of his hands.  
  
“Hi,” he replied, dropping his forehead against Lance’s. “What do you say we finish up that book? The one I was reading you yesterday? Tomorrow, we’ll all take the quintant off.”  
  
Lance giggled, nuzzling his forehead against Keith’s as tears pricked his eyes and the ball of fear in his stomach finally began to ease.  
  
“Did the famously overworking samurai Keith Kogane just advise a break?” He teased, brushing a lock of black hair away from Keith’s eyes and snorting at his friend’s pout. “Okay, okay. But only if you let me trim your hair; you’ve got a million dead ends and it’s torture just to look at.”  
  
“You’re not cutting off my hair.”  
  
“No, obviously not,” scoffed Lance. “What would I make fun of then? Plus,” he murmured, the marks on his cheeks brightening again, “you look really good with long hair. But you never take decent care of it; even long hair has to be trimmed to stay healthy. I’m good at cutting hair, and I’m your partner, so I’ll do it.”  
  
Keith’s mind was too fried to handle Lance McClain telling him that he looked “really good” with anything right then, leaving him staring at the fidgeting boy in front of him. Lance’s blush was literally lighting up the room. “Um, if you’ll let me, anyway.”  
  
Keith’s ears blossomed petal pink and he managed to jerk out a nod, his thumbs still rubbing circles into Lance’s hands.  
  
“Uh, your hair is getting long too,” he muttered. “I—I can’t cut my own hair, but Adam taught me a little for taking care of others. I could trim yours, maybe?”  
  
Lance’s glowing chevrons bobbed as his smile widened, and Keith felt warmth flood into his chest as their noses brushed tenderly.  
  
“I’m trusting you with my hair, Mullet; you know it’s serious now.”  
  
“Yeah,” snorted Keith. “Because the whole ‘co-piloting the head of Voltron’ thing didn’t clue me in on that.”  
  
“Yes, obviously,” replied Lance, only half-joking as a confession plan began to weave itself into a proper tapestry in his mind. “Thanks, Keith. I’d love that.”  
  
Keith beamed, stealing a nearby blanket and draping it over the uncovered half of Lance before standing and stretching his back. Lance cocked his head, eyebrows knitting together, and Keith reached down to rub away the creases he knew must be lining Lance’s forehead.  
  
“I’m going to grab the book,” he reassured, and Lance leaned against the bedpost in silent acquiescence. “Be right back.”  
  
Ten dobashes later, with a blanket draped over both of them and the wrapper of another one of their “demonic” (according to Pidge) space pomegranate-and-chocolate bars strewn on the ground beneath the sheet’s corner, Lance snuggled against Keith’s shoulder. Keith dropped his cheek atop Lance’s head and flipped open the book, his free hand lacing with Lance’s, and the soft glow of blue Altean marks lighting up the pages for him to read.

  


Keith loved Black, really, but right now, he wanted nothing more than to smack the giant magical robot lion of death in the jaw. Because it was two in the morning and he was so freaking used to being woken up by now that he was already stirring when Lance began to blink beside him.  
  
“Go back to sleep,” groaned Keith, carding his fingers through Lance’s hair and snuggling closer to the warm boy. “We still have time.”  
  
“I can’t go back to sleep once I’m up,” whined Lance, nuzzling at Keith’s shoulder and yawning until his nose scrunched like a kitten’s. “You can’t either and you know it, Mullet.”  
  
Keith grumbled nonsensically and Lance’s chuckles were interrupted by another yawn. He stretched, both arms reaching for the sky as his fingers curled atop his palms and his back arched like a cat’s. Keith rubbed at his eyes, a yawn splitting through his own lips, and Lance slid silently out of the bed.  
  
“What are you going to do?” Whispered Keith, his eyes straying to the cuddled figures of Shiro and Adam sprawled near a still-unconscious Allura. “Train? We have the day off.”  
  
“I’m going to hack the ship’s morning alarm,” replied Lance with a shrug, slipping his surprisingly tiny feet into his Black Lion slippers. “Make sure everyone can sleep in. Want to come with?”  
  
Keith’s eyebrow rose and he tossed the blanket back from his legs, stepping carefully around the tiny bundle of Pidge curled around Matt’s knees.  
  
“You can do that?” He asked, slipping to Lance’s side and accepting the offered slippers. “Without blowing up the ship?”  
  
Lance snorted, looping an arm around Keith’s shoulders and striding from the room with a toss of his head.  
  
“Oh yeah,” he boasted the moment the door slid shut behind them. “I can even make sure the distress beacons still get through! I keep a pretty close eye on what Coran does, after all; I even figured out how to get that pool to work!”  
  
“You did what?!” Nearly shrieked Keith, twisting to glare at the taller boy and unconsciously catching the Castle’s sparkle in his eyes. “You mean we can go swimming now and you never told me?!”  
  
“I haven’t had the chance!” Grumbled Lance, Altean marks fizzling a light blue. “I only figured it out a few quintants before the strike meetings started; we haven’t had any breaks since then!”  
  
Keith scowled, snagging Lance’s hand and yanking the taller boy down the corridor into the bridge.  
  
“Well, we do now!” He snapped. “So hurry up and shut off the alarm! I’m going to get our swim gear! Meet you in the pool in ten!”  
  
“Roger that, partner,” teased Lance.  
  
He was absolutely going to trounce Keith in a splash fest.

  


“Since when are you part-dolphin?” Managed Keith along with the flood of laughter overflowing from him as Lance literally arced above the pool, popping in and out of the water with a triumphant grin covering his face.  
  
Lance just wiggled his eyebrows and dove in again, leaving Keith to snort with giggles as he dipped up and down along with the waves. The first time Lance had dove in, Keith had been floating on his back a little too close by. Needless to say, an all-out splash war ensued, and Lance had turned into a freaking water demon. By the time the taller boy got his hands on a water gun, Shiro would have already called it a massacre. After that, well…  
  
A finger poked Keith’s leg, stealing him away from his thoughts, and a smile was already curving across his lips as he met Lance’s wide, shimmering blue eyes and summery grin.  
  
“Want to race?” He asked, a glint of triumph already in his eyes, and, well, Keith had never been one to back down from a challenge.  
  
He smirked, sliding to the edge of the pool and taking his position beside Lance. Sure, he was absolutely going to lose, but he may as well give Lance a run for his money. A swim for his money? A swim for his gac?  
  
“Ready?” Teased Lance, swimming beside him and cocking his head, the pool floating in his irises as much as it surrounded both boys.  
  
“You’re on.”

  


“………Wait,” finally commented Pidge, staring at Allura and Lance, who were both balanced on Allura’s bed as they ate breakfast. “You said you got Lance’s hair composition? And that’s why its so curly?”  
  
“Yes!” Chirped Allura, popping a sweet roll into her mouth and licking her fingers when Coran wasn’t looking; she still couldn’t leave her bed, so the team had opted to take breakfast in her room. “And he got my Altean markings. We also share a mark of our bond on our arms; they were truly quite thorough in this.”  
  
Pidge paused. She stared at Lance, who was scowling in preparation for whatever comment followed, and Adam coughed as if to hide a laugh. The silent staredown lasted a full five ticks.  
  
“Pictures.”  
  
“Nopity nope nopers, not a chance! And don’t you surf the web for them when we get back to Earth, you gremlin; I’m on to you!”  
  
“Bold of you to assume I need to get back to Earth for that.”  
  
“_Pidge!_”

  


“Oh, Lance!” Called Hunk after they had finished cleaning the dishes, the suds still sweeping down the drain. “You’ll never guess what I managed to stumble across with Pidge!”  
  
“What?” Asked Lance, a smirk already spreading across his lips as he slid the last clean plate into its proper place. “If it’s a new way to sneak glitter into Coran’s mustache cream—”  
  
“No, it’s way better!” Interrupted Hunk, drying his hands and tossing the towel to Lance. “You’re going to want to get Keith and Allura though; they’re going to love this!”  
  
“Dude, Allura’s still on bed rest,” pointed out Lance, catching the cloth and running it over his hands swiftly. “So it better be something we can do in her room.”  
  
“She has a TV, we’ll be fine!” Insisted Hunk, shooing Lance from the kitchen with a broad grin. “Keith suggested a couple of movements ago that we try to find radio signals from Earth! Adam’s really good with radio waves, and with Pidge’s hacking expertise and my engineering skills, we managed to find one of your favorite shows!”  
  
Lance blinked, a quiet glow lighting up his markings as he glanced to the side, a smile curving up his lips.  
  
“That’s so Keith,” he murmured.  
  
Hunk beamed, warmth soaking into his eyes at the expression on his friend’s face. Much as Lance liked to flirt, he never messed around when it came to love. Hunk had immigrated to Cuba when he was six, and Lance was his first friend. He had walked with Hunk through bullying, another immigration to the United States for the Garrison, crazy simulators, cruel teachers, panic attacks, and a million rounds of throwing up. Lance never gave up on those he loved. And Hunk had never seen Lance light up with love the way he did when it came to Keith.  
  
“Ooooooooh, should I leave you and Keith alone to it?” Teased Hunk, earning him a playful jab to the ribs.  
  
“Shut up!” Complained Lance, Altean marks burning a brilliant blue and smile glowing like the sun. “Plus, you love Brooklyn Nine-Nine as much as I do!”  
  
Hunk blinked.  
  
“How did you…?”  
  
Lance’s grin just widened.  
  
“I know you as well as you know me, Hunky. And you absolutely have a _time-to-get-a-crush-on-Terry-again_ face.”  
  
“I do no—okay, yes I do.”  
  
Lance cackled, throwing an arm around Hunk’s shoulders and steering them towards Allura’s room, a cloud of chatter and familiar jokes surrounding them.

  


“PIDGE, THIS IS NOT LASER TAG! THIS IS LASER DEATH!” Shrieked Lance, catapulting himself over the cannon blast and tackling Keith out of the way.  
  
“OKAY, SO MAYBE I DIDN’T FORESEE THE FLOOR FALLING AWAY!”  
  
“WHAT?! PIDGE, DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THIS GAME DOES?!” Cried Keith, knocking himself and Lance out of the way of another shot.  
  
“NOPE! THAT’S WHAT WE’RE LEARNING RIGHT NOW!”  
  
“THIS WAS NOT WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR!” Complained Hunk, running around with his arms waving wildly to confuse the firing mechanism.  
  
“SUFFER WITH THE REST OF US, HUNKERS!”  
  
“I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THAT NICKNAME EITHER!”  
  
“IT’S PART OF THE BEST FRIENDS DEAL ALONG WITH BROOKLYN NINE-NINE, YOU’RE STUCK NOW!”  
  
Keith snickered, diving for cover behind a rack of weapons a tick before Lance hurled himself into the cramped space as well.  
  
“Captain Holt was Shiro’s icon as a kid,” whispered Keith, smirking as Pidge leapt around a five-pronged assault of lasers.  
  
“And Kevin was Adam’s,” whispered Lance, flushed face glistening in the training room’s light and smile glowing brighter than the sun. “I think we’ve unlocked a conspiracy here, Keith!”  
  
Keith’s heart shot through the roof, and when Lance’s bayard transformed into a giant black broadsword, he forgot how to breathe entirely.  
  
“TAKE THAT, LASER DEMON!”  
  
“WHOA, BUDDY! SINCE WHEN?”  
  
“SINCE YESTERDAY! PRETTY SLICK, RIGHT?”  
  
“LANCE, KNOCK THAT OFF! I CAN SEE THE STEAM COMING FROM KEITH’S BRAIN AGAIN, AND I MAY BE A GENIUS, BUT I CAN’T REPLICATE THE HUMAN MIND!”  
  
“Paladins, please report to my room immediately!” Cut in Allura’s voice, the intercom glowing to life behind them. “We have a situation!”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	18. Our Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith smiled fondly as he slid into his Black Lion slippers and grabbed his Altean robe, sneaking into Lance’s room to pile his friend’s slippers, robe, and hair kit into a precarious heap on his arms. With Lance gathering the blankets for his fort, Keith couldn’t help wondering vaguely if Lance would turn this into a competition of who could carry the larger pile to this mystery room of his.

“Allura, you need to revise your definition of ‘situation’,” grumbled Keith, but the Altean just giggled as Lance spread a goo mask over Shiro’s face.  
  
“My apologies,” she replied a devilish quirk to her lips. “I shall keep that in mind for the future.”  
  
“I mean, you saved us from Pidge’s latest death game,” commented Hunk, who had finally been dissuaded from eating the mask, “so I don’t mind that much.”  
  
Keith muttered something unintelligible and Adam snickered behind him.  
  
“Keith, your protective boyfriend face is showing,” he whispered, a smirk blooming across his face.  
  
Keith lobbed a towel at him, but the older man just batted it away with a laugh. “And now you have your angry kitty face on.”  
  
“I do not!” Hissed Keith, sending Adam into a fit of giggles as he folded his arms and sank into his chair with a pout.  
  
“Keith, Keith, do your rabbit face at Lance. He’ll die.”  
  
“Adam, I will end you!”  
  
Lance peeked over at the two and grinned, whispering something to Shiro that made the Blue Paladin squawk.  
  
“Captain Holt is a perfectly good role model!”  
  
“Wait, Dad was your role model?” Cried Pidge, and Lance clutched his stomach, wheezing with laughter as Shiro rushed to explain.  
  
Keith caught his eye and, unable to fully resist, twitched his nose like a rabbit. Lance fell over squealing, and Keith sat back with an incredibly smug smile and Adam’s less-than-subtle sniggers behind him.

  


“Keith, buddy, my man, for the tenth time, electronics dying isn’t literally them, you know, _dying!_”  
  
“Then why does everyone call it that?!” Protested Keith, drawing his lips into what was supposed to be a scowl, but at that point was just a tired pout. “I’m not putting my device through death because I forgot to plug it in!”  
  
Lance groaned and shook his head, ducking into a nearby closet to raid it for blankets while Keith strolled into his own room and grabbed the music player.  
  
After everyone had showered and relaxed with crimson pieces of fruit (Allura and Lance agreed that they had similar properties to cucumbers) over their eyes for maybe twenty dobashes, Lance had eventually tugged Keith away from the spa day with a reminder that they had a hair appointment that definitively required damp hair. The two had groaned their way out of the room over a myriad of cat calls.  
  
Now Keith was snatching his charging cord (he was not going to let his device die!) and preparing to go see Lance’s “masterpiece” in some hidden room that he was assured “does have an outlet, dios mios, Keith.”  
  
Keith smiled fondly as he slid into his Black Lion slippers and grabbed his Altean robe, sneaking into Lance’s room to pile his friend’s slippers, robe, and hair kit into a precarious heap on his arms. With Lance gathering the blankets for his fort, Keith couldn’t help wondering vaguely if Lance would turn this into a competition of who could carry the larger pile to this mystery room of his.  
  
“Hey, Mullet! You got everything?” Asked Lance, peering around the mound so suddenly that Keith had to muffle a shriek.  
  
Lance snickered. “Awww, jumpy? Come on, let’s get this stuff set up!”  
  
Keith made a face at him, but Lance just grinned like the sun and scampered down the hall with a random battle cry. Stars, Keith loved this boy.  
  
“Lance, slow down!” Complained Keith, swallowing his blush and sprinting after his partner. “I don’t know where we’re going!”

  


Lance finally stopped cackling at the same time he stopped dashing around corners, and Keith huffed after him with his mouth trying to both scowl and giggle at the same time and succeeding in neither. He was pretty sure he was just pouting again based on the fierce light blossoming from Lance’s marks.  
  
“Here we are, Mullet!” Exclaimed Lance, a faint squeak to his voice as he beamed at the dark blue door surrounded by carved golden roses in front of him. “Allura showed me this a while ago, said it was used traditionally for Altea’s leader to propose to their significant other. I mean, I totally see why! It’s seriously pretty!”  
  
“Wai—wha—?!”  
  
“Yeah, it’s super gorgeous!” Cheered Lance, nudging a golden rose with his elbow to open the door and looking at Keith with a scared, fluttering sparkle in his eyes. “You want to see?”  
  
Keith swallowed. He stared at the boy in front of him, cocoa skin bathed in purple light seeping out of the room, freckles shining like stars, and brown curls fluffy and mussed as if in preparation for sleep. He stared at the warm blue eyes, shining with a promise that Lance wouldn’t be mad if he said no. He wouldn’t get upset, he wouldn’t be hurt, he wouldn’t run from Keith. Lance wasn’t scared of this love any more than Keith was.  
  
So Keith stepped forward and nodded, light seeping into his eyes and smile crinkling their edges until his dimple showed.  
  
“Yeah,” he breathed. “I’d love to see, Lance.”  
  
Lance’s face lit up, bouncing on his heels and grin outshining any sun as he twirled into the room.  
  
“Come on, then!”  
  
Keith laughed, hurrying after his friend and stepping onto a smooth floor. The room was pure white, nothing in it, all polished tile without windows or decorations. Lance was busily assembling the fort, propping up pillows and fluffing blankets into seemingly impossible positions. Keith raised a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
“This is pretty?” He asked, crossing the floor and connecting the music player to a nearby outlet. “Lance, what are you planni—”  
  
The door slid shut behind him, and the tile vanished around Keith. The white melted into a starry sky, the entire room dissolving into the space surrounding them, dotting what once were walls with red and blue stars, swirling purple galaxies, and the glittering nebulas just beyond the ship. It was like standing in the center of the universe and watching it all fly by. Pink fog drifted past, and Lance hummed in appreciation.  
  
“Haven’t seen that before,” he whispered, silently understanding the sacred moment they had stepped into. “Pretty nice, huh?”  
  
Keith had forgotten how to breathe.  
  
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “It’s beautiful, Lance.”  
  
Lance’s smile softened, and he tugged another sheet into position with slow, careful movements. Keith began setting up the music player, flipping through song options as Lance fluffed pillows and hummed sweetly. The two pulled on their robes, bickering quietly, and singing the tackiest songs they could imagine under their breath. It was all so quiet, so gentle, yet somehow real even after everything they had been through.  
  
Keith’s finger paused over a song option, his breath curling slightly in his chest at the title, and he looked back at Lance. Back at his comrade, his partner, his friend, his favorite person, the love of his life, the only person he would ever give his heart to. Whether Lance loved him back or not, Keith was always going to love Lance. That was just part of who he was now.  
  
He pressed the love song.  
  
Lance crawled out of the blanket tent the instant the sweet, slow melody filled the air, staring at Keith like he outshone the entire galaxy glowing all around them. Keith could only smile. He stood carefully and crossed to where Lance knelt, crouching beside him and watching the universe roll past from inside their gigantic blanket fortress as their song swam around the room.  
  
“Ready to cut our hair?” He asked gently, unlocking the hair kit and running his fingers through his own damp locks.  
  
Lance blinked, smiling quietly and picking up the scissors. He began to clip the locks curling at the base of Keith’s neck, fingers wrapped around the dead-ends so they wouldn’t fall under Keith’s collar.  
  
“This’ll be so itchy in the morning,” he murmured, and Keith couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past his own lips.  
  
“I hope we have time to shower tomorrow,” he replied, the melody filling the room and the faintest blue glow sparkling from Lance’s cheeks. “Hey, you said that the sibling bond gave Allura your hair texture. But yours doesn’t look like that. Why do you straighten it?”  
  
Lance’s grimace was almost audible, though his snipping continued steadily.  
  
“Because I thought it didn’t look good,” he admitted. “You know, most models have straight hair and all that? It’s whiter, so it’s better, that whole mentality. And I got mocked for my curly hair when I let it down, so my sister lent me her straightener and…you know? I hated dealing with the comments, so I just went with it.”  
  
Keith hummed, the scissors’ steady beat almost as comforting as the song weaving its way through the air around them.  
  
“I think you’d look good,” blurted Keith, the tips of his ears blossoming like fresh roses. “With curly hair. You’ve got this…sort of bouncy personality. Kind of like curls. I think it suits you.”  
  
Lance’s clipping halted, but Keith’s heart had gone into full gallop mode and he was pretty sure steam could be pouring from his ears right then and it would be completely fitting. He tucked his shoulders in a little, and the quiet snipping started up again.  
  
“You know, when I saw Allura’s hair,” whispered Lance, “I couldn’t help but want to try again. I think I can take a little taunting if it’s…if it’s about who I am. Because I’m finally proud of who I am.”  
  
Keith’s chest seized, and Lance began cutting the sides of his hair. “What about you, Keith? You proud of who you are now?”  
  
Keith sat, fingers tugging on one another and lips folded over one another, and Lance continued clipping smoothly. He didn’t ask again, didn’t press him, just watched and waited. Keith wondered if that was because Lance could tell he was thinking, or because Lance already knew what the answer would ultimately be.  
  
The haircut was finished in companionable silence, and Lance handed Keith the scissors before turning so his could be trimmed. Keith pursed his lips as he began.  
  
“I am,” he finally answered. “I am proud of myself. Well, of who I’ve become. I never thought I could be a good Black Paladin.”  
  
“And now it’s like you were born to do it,” replied Lance, a chuckle pulling at his words. “But, are you proud of yourself? Not just as the Black Paladin, but as, you know, Keith?”  
  
Keith smiled, turning Lance’s chin slightly so he could snip the sides back to their old length. Somehow, that question felt easier to answer.  
  
“Yes,” he stated. “I’m proud of myself.”  
  
Lance beamed, yawning immediately afterwards, and Keith guffawed. Lance’s nose was scrunched again, his shoulders popping fiercely, but he didn’t bother to hide the yawn behind his fist. It was just him and Keith, after all. There was no need to hide anything.  
  
“All done,” murmured Keith as a spattering of green sparkling diamonds floated past the ship.  
  
“Thanks!” Chirped Lance, somehow still quiet even in his joy, and studied the two of them in the mirror. “I’d say we look pretty good! We should totally take a picture! Then we can compare when my hair gets super curly and yours is really long!”  
  
“What makes you think I’m going for long hair?” Asked Keith, a smile tugging at his lips as he picked up his communicator, which could double as a camera occasionally.  
  
“Oh, just a hunch,” replied Lance with a smirk, taking the device and squishing his cheek against Keith’s to snap the photo. “You’d look good.”  
  
Keith’s ears went bright red, and he finally sighed, accepting the fact that his heart was going to burst before the evening was over.  
  
“Your hunches really are good,” he commented, laying down in their blanket fortress and patting the spot beside him.  
  
Lance blinked, smiling quietly and crawling beside him. He sprawled onto his side, gazing out at the purple flitting by outside and sliding his hand into Keith’s. Keith squeezed his fingers gently and pressed their foreheads together.  
  
“I’ve got good intuition,” whispered Lance. “You’re going to look great.”  
  
“Thanks,” murmured Keith. “You will too.”  
  
The melody switched to another love song, and Lance snuggled closer with a soft sigh. Keith giggled, tapping his nose to Lance’s.  
  
“Lance?” He whispered.  
  
“Yeah?” Came the sleepy reply, and Keith’s pulse shot through the roof.  
  
He wanted to say it, he wanted to say it so badly right then. It was just them surrounded by stars and a blanket fort made of their favorite colors, romantic music singing through the air, and Lance’s warmth pressed against his side. They were in the room where proposals happened, the room with love built into it’s very foundations, shining with the very space that had brought them together. It had taken them from bickering paladins to caring teammates to undeniable partners to a loving team. It had given Keith a family, it had given Lance a second home, it had taken their normal lives and destroyed them with the promise of a better tomorrow. It had made them into the two Black Paladins laying in that room right then, one a diplomat and one a fighter, both overflowing with love for the universe around them.  
  
Keith had always thought he would be too scared to give his heart away entirely to someone, that there was no one he could trust with that. But this tall boy with ocean-blue eyes surrounded by bags from a constant drive, with sun-kissed skin lined with scars and callouses from an unconditional love, with a heart so open and kind to everyone, with everything Keith loved about the world, Keith trusted. Keith trusted Lance more than anyone else in the universe. But more than that, he loved him. And Lance deserved to know he was loved.  
  
“Keith?” Murmured Lance, reaching out to stroke Keith’s cheek gently. “You okay, buddy?”  
  
“Yeah,” breathed Keith, settling beside him and exhaling slowly. “Yeah, I am.”  
  
“Good,” replied Lance with a soft chuckle. “I wanted to tell you something.”  
  
“I do too,” admitted Keith, smile growing as Lance’s cheeks flushed strawberry red. “Do you want to go first?”  
  
Lance shrugged, a gleam stretching up from his lips into his eyes, and he curled fully around Keith in a hug.  
  
“Why not say it together?” He suggested.  
  
Keith tucked his nose into Lance’s shoulder and relaxed, winding his arms around Lance in a gentle embrace.  
  
“On four?”  
  
“Four?” Asked Lance, a laugh tugging on his words. “Why four?”  
  
“Well, since when do we do things normally?”  
  
Lance let out a full laugh at that one, nuzzling into Keith and relaxing any remaining tension away.  
  
“True. So, on two, Samurai?”  
  
Keith giggled.  
  
“Sounds good, Sharpshooter.”  
  
The nebula’s purple glow filled the room, and Keith’s eyes slipped closed at the same time as Lance’s. They snuggled closer, yawning.  
  
“Okay. One.”  
  
Lance was proud of everything he and Keith had become both apart and together. He believed in their future because _this was them._  
  
“Two.”  
  
Keith had given his heart to Lance a long time ago, and he would do it all over again if Lance asked him to. What was there to be afraid of?  
  
Lance beamed.  
  
Keith smiled.  
  
“I love—”  
  
“You are—”  
  
“—you.”  
  
“—my future.”  
  
Lance blinked.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Keith froze.  
  
“Whoops.”  
  
The two stared at one another for a long, long dobash. Then Lance giggled and pressed his lips to Keith’s nose in a soft peck.  
  
“Love you too, Samurai.”  
  
Keith blushed flaming red and buried his face in Lance’s chest, which rumbled with giggles as he smoothed Keith’s still damp hair.  
  
“You’re my future too,” Keith murmured.  
  
“We’re the future,” whispered Lance, tucking the blanket around them and cuddling into the pillow, careful not to jostle Keith.  
  
“…Yeah,” breathed Keith, nestling in and grinning at the smile he could feel curving across Lance’s lips. “Yeah. That sounds really, really good.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	19. A Comet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The ships are being broken down and reused to make trading ships,” tossed in Ezor, clinging to her girlfriend’s arm and practically glowing. “The economy’s really _booming_ now!”  
  
Keith full-on scowled at that one, and Ezor seemed to giggle directly at him. Lance snickered, reaching across the table to high-five her though, and Adam outright snorted at the look Keith threw his boyfriend.

“Wi—wi—um—with Warlords Trugg and Ladnok in our custody, we—we only have th-three remaining threats,” declared Acxa, one of her hands cradled by Allura on the premise of fixing her bandage.  
  
Lance was very proud that she had managed to get that sentence out at all, honestly, given that her ears were coated in a thick layer of silvery glow right then. Keith’s mouth scrunched with something vaguely resembling skepticism and Lance had to swallow his giggle.  
  
The full team had decided to have a complete debrief on the war effort after a movement of recovery, and Pidge was looking at Allura and Acxa like she wanted to lock them in the training room and refuse to let them out until they kissed. Hunk was whispering enthusiastically to Ezor, Romelle was giggling at something Narti had said, and Zethrid was joining Krolia in staring at the _not-yet-couple_ with the most dead look in their eyes Lance had ever seen. Adashi was watching with a faintly amused tilt to their mouths, and Matt was glaring at the two men very pointedly.  
  
“Trugg and Ladnok will be tried and imprisoned,” added Narti. “It is unlikely that they will be there for life, though.”  
  
“Lotor wants to build an empire based more on the mercy thing and less on the death stuff,” explained Zethrid. “He’s managing so far.”  
  
“The ships are being broken down and reused to make trading ships,” tossed in Ezor, clinging to her girlfriend’s arm and practically glowing. “The economy’s really _booming_ now!”  
  
Keith full-on scowled at that one, and Ezor seemed to giggle directly at him. Lance snickered, reaching across the table to high-five her though, and Adam outright snorted at the look Keith threw his boyfriend.  
  
His boyfriend. Wow. Keith could feel his ears beginning to glow bright red again, and it definitely didn’t help when Lance plopped back beside him with that huge sunny smile that could easily melt blizzards.  
  
“Bad puns aside,” groaned Acxa. “The Empire has indeed begun to repair trading with other planets. We have entered into negotiations with Sir Kolivan on integrating the Blade of Marmora into our society. He has left us to handle the final threats.”  
  
“Zarkon, Haggar, and Sendak,” agreed Keith loudly. “Do we have any updates on the situation there?”  
  
“Yes,” replied Krolia, tearing the death glaze from her eyes to participate. “We have traced their position; all three seem to have formally allied and are finally making their move. Princess, may I have your permission to access this room’s map?”  
  
“Of course, Admiral Krolia,” reassured Allura, hand never leaving Acxa’s. “We thank the Blade for its assistance once again.”  
  
“It’s our pleasure,” said Krolia, the tiniest smile playing at the edge of her mouth.  
  
“But, frankly speaking,” cut in Pidge, adjusting her glasses and tilting her head to the side, “how big of a threat is Zarkon at this point? His empire’s been taken away, he doesn’t have any battleships or anything, and Voltron’s just getting stronger. Should we really be that worried about him?”  
  
“Yeah, Voltron was kinda crazy strong the other day,” tossed in Ezor. “Haggar’s still freaky, but I don’t know how big a threat Zarkon and Sendak are at this point.”  
  
“I mean, theoretically, Voltron is the strongest warrior in the universe,” added Hunk. “Because of the material, right? It’s made from some inter-reality comet or something? The only other one of those is with Lotor. It’s not a threat to us anymore.”  
  
Acxa’s eyes went wide, her mouth curving into a silent oh. Zethrid blinked, and Narti’s cat raised an eyebrow. Ezor wasn’t even an eighth as subtle.  
  
“He didn’t tell you?!” She squawked, slamming both hands against the table and flying to her feet. “Are you freaking kidding me?! Lotor needs to learn when to swallow his stupid pride and say there’s a problem!”  
  
“Whoa, Ezor, slow down!” Called Lance, a smile in his voice as he rested both elbows on the table and leaned forward. “What’s up with Lotor and his galaxy-sized ego now? What problem is there?”  
  
Ezor fumed, slapping her palms against the table again as Acxa tightened her hold on Allura’s hand and exhaled slowly. Allura’s free hand rose, covering Acxa’s as she locked their gazes.  
  
“Acxa,” she whispered, dropping any honorifics and ignoring the warmth sprouting from her markings. “Please, what is happening? What did Lotor not inform us of?”  
  
Acxa’s swallow was thunder on a silent night. Ezor plunked back into her seat with rage glittering in her eyes and folded arms. Zethrid gritted her teeth, eyes fixed on Acxa, and Narti just moved her chair closer to Romelle.  
  
“Officially, the comet is still under Lotor’s control,” stated Acxa, glancing away as her fingers curled tighter around Allura’s and brow wrinkled into a grimace. “However, unofficially, the comet was stolen phoebs ago. I’m sorry, I never expected him to hide this from Voltron.”  
  
“Who was it stolen by?” Snapped Keith, flying forward as his hands jerked into fists. “That comet is the one thing that can still threaten Voltron! Where is it?!”  
  
Acxa gestured to Narti, who tugged a glowing purple chip from her pocket and tossed it to Krolia, who was still fighting with the ship’s map.  
  
“We just recently traced the coordinates of the comet,” replied Narti, black cat pacing across her shoulders. “It should be displayed upon the map.”  
  
“I’d say I can’t believe this,” ground out Lance, rubbing his temples and blowing out a slow, barely controlled breath, “but I actually totally can.”  
  
“Lotor cannot keep information like that from us,” cried Allura, her hold still firm around Acxa’s hands. “I understand why none of you mentioned it, you did not know. But please, Lotor has to understand that this can never happen again. This decision has put the entire universe at risk. We are allies, we must help one another.”  
  
Acxa’s free hand covered Allura’s and she carefully raised her eyes to meet the princess’.  
  
“I will do all in my power to convince him,” she promised. “We all will. And I’m sorry he did not tell you.”  
  
“Wait wait wait, isn’t this, like, super bad?” Squeaked Hunk. “Like _Voltron-could-lose-and-the-universe-could-end-tomorrow_ kind of bad?”  
  
“Yep, that’s what it means,” groaned Pidge, sliding down her chair and making a face at the ceiling. “Lotor’s kind of a turd.”  
  
Lance dropped the hands that had been rubbing his temples, huffed out a harsh breath, and leaned back in his chair. Keith’s hand stopped clenching and unclenching long enough to thread his fingers through Lance’s, and the shorter boy bit back his bubbling desire for murder. He and Lance would be fine, they would make this situation fine again. It was what they always did. Not by murdering either.  
  
“Okay,” managed Lance, a terrifyingly bright smile perched on his lips. “So we look at this map. We find the comet. We break the comet. Then we bust Zarkon, Haggar, and Sendak’s heads. And after that, I’m going to have a short, nice, cheerful chat with Lotor.”  
  
Keith was pretty sure the only adjective there that would actually apply to any “chat” with Lotor was going to be _short._ He was also pretty sure he wanted to stick a sword in that Emperor’s gut.  
  
Zethrid scowled, eyes breaking from Acxa as she zeroed in on Lance.  
  
“Zarkon constitutes the biggest thre—”  
  
“No, he doesn’t,” cut in Lance. “Voltron can beat Zarkon. But we have no guarantee we can win if that comet is weaponized. And if it beats Voltron, the entire universe is at risk. Whoever stole the comet is clearly not friendly towards the new face of the Galra Empire: peace. We are handling the comet first.”  
  
“Absolutely,” stated Acxa, eyes pinning Zethrid to her seat. “The comet must take top priority. After that, Zarkon will be defeated. The generals and I will lend you our unconditional support for all of this.”  
  
The last part was said carefully and loudly, daring any of her three companions to argue with her. Keith’s eyes darted to each face, watching for any twitch, any hint of a scowl, any flicker of light in the iris. He may not be good at keeping any semblance of a peace in meetings, but he had grown up bouncing from one foster home to another, circulating through group homes, learning how to snap at any sign of potential violence. He could tell when a situation was about to get dangerous.  
  
“Thank you for your cooperation,” added Allura, squeezing Acxa’s hands and setting the tips of her ears alight with silver.  
  
Lance beamed, a trace of the tension slipping away from his shoulders. Keith scowled.  
  
“We have the coordinates of both the comet and of Zarkon’s forces present on the map,” declared Krolia, the faintest twitch to her eyebrow a screaming complaint at the map’s difficulty to work with.  
  
“Thank you,” called Shiro, hurrying across the room and tapping through a couple of buttons to display it throughout the room.  
  
Krolia stared at him like he had just spared her from a lifetime of mid-February traffic control in the Midwest. Adam snickered, and a single red blinking dot flashed on the diagram flooding the room. Pidge adjusted her glasses, mouth pulled down into a scowl.  
  
“If there’s one dot,” she growled, “that means Zarkon has the comet with him, doesn’t it?”  
  
Hunk flinched back from the screen at that, rubbing his hands up and down his arms and making a noise of general disgust. No one protested, and Pidge looked more than tempted to rip Lotor’s throat out. Allura hissed, and Adam wrapped an arm around Shiro protectively. Keith’s scowl turned into a thundercloud on his face, and all the blood drained from Lance’s face until he looked like a corpse that just so happened to be sitting up. His clutch on Keith’s fingers became a vice grip.  
  
“Lance?” Whispered Keith, the sudden pressure jerking him from the haze of murder filling his mind.  
  
When he got no answer, Keith slapped off his communicator and, carefully, rested his free hand on Lance’s knee. “Lance, hey. What’s wrong?”  
  
Lance swallowed harshly, hands shaking from the force of his grip, and Keith scooted closer to his boyfriend. “Come on, Sharpshooter. What’s happening in that head of yours?”  
  
“Zoom in,” whispered Lance, his voice raw and gutted. “Zoom in on the planet nearest to Zarkon.”  
  
There was no one who knew those star maps like Lance, he had spent vargas upon vargas staring at them, memorizing each planet, name, and galaxy it belonged to. He knew where everything was even better than Coran by that point. Lance knew exactly how far Zarkon was from that planet. Exactly how long it would take them to reach it from where they were right then. He knew exactly what they were facing.  
  
Keith swallowed, flicking his translator back on.  
  
“Coran, zoom in on the planet nearest to Zarkon,” he suggested. “If they’re one of the planets we saved, we can radio ahead and warn them.”  
  
“Excellent idea, Number Four!” Crowed Coran, toggling a lever near him and yanking the map into full view, the planet’s name deciphered into each of their languages.  
  
Hunk flew to his feet, a shriek torn from his lips.  
  
Pidge’s face transformed into a mask of rage, fists clenched so tightly her nails bit crescents into her palms.  
  
Allura closed her eyes and blew out a sharp exhale.  
  
Matt dropped his forehead to the table, hands interlocking around the back of his neck and eyes screwed shut.  
  
Adam tipped his chin back to stare at the ceiling and breathed slowly, clutching his boyfriend’s hand like a lifeline.  
  
Shiro slumped back in his chair like a rag doll.  
  
Keith forgot how to breathe, forgot how to hear, forgot how to see anything but the name glowing under that planet.  
  
Lance didn’t move at all.  
  
_Earth._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	20. A Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you kidding me?!” Screamed Keith, leaping to his feet and slamming his fist against the table so hard it rattled. “Coran, how far is Zarkon from Earth?”  
  
“He’s about a phoeb away,” murmured Lance, staring down at his hands as if that would make them stop shaking. “Maybe a few quintants less.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Screamed Keith, leaping to his feet and slamming his fist against the table so hard it rattled. “Coran, how far is Zarkon from Earth?”  
  
“He’s about a phoeb away,” murmured Lance, staring down at his hands as if that would make them stop shaking. “Maybe a few quintants less.”  
  
Keith stuffed his face into his hands and let loose a silent scream, scrambling for any sort of composure. Because _Zarkon_ and _Haggar_ and _Sendak_ were all a little over a phoeb away from his home planet with a _comet_, the one thing that could maybe defeat his team, could kill everyone in this room, could take away his family and everyone he had ever loved. Zarkon was right next to the place he had stolen Shiro’s car and been granted a second chance, where Adam had made grilled cheese sandwiches while he sat on the counter kicking his heels, where he had met Pidge and Hunk over a decaphoeb ago, where he had saved Shiro with Lance, _laid eyes on the boy he would fall so unequivocally in love with—_  
  
_Lance._  
  
Keith squeezed Lance’s hand, and nearly jumped when the gesture was returned. Lance blew out a long, slow breath, and turned to lock sea-blue eyes with Keith’s violet irises. Neither flinched for even a tick.  
  
“We need to get moving,” announced Lance, and Keith nodded. “First off, Voltron needs to head right for Earth; I bet Zarkon’s got some sort of exceptionally annoying vanguard that’s already headed for our planet. But, more importantly, this is going to be the final battle. We’re going to need everyone with us.”  
  
“Pidge, Matt,” called Keith. “After we take out the vanguard, we need you to get the rebe—er, the former rebels to Earth. They’re based in Olkari.”  
  
“Can do!” Growled Pidge, and Matt saluted immediately.  
  
“General Acxa,” said Lance, twisting to face her and Allura, “You mentioned a place where Allura could learn Altean alchemy and go toe-to-toe with Haggar.”  
  
“Oriande,” supplied Acxa. “I know the way there, but only Allura will be able to enter.”  
  
Lance nodded, eyes darting to Allura and eyebrow raising in a silent question. Her hand tightened into a fist on the table, and she tucked a curl behind her ear with a raised chin and steel glint in her eyes.  
  
“It would be my pleasure,” she stated.  
  
“Thank you, hermana,” breathed Lance, glancing at Krolia and pursing his lips.  
  
They were going to need the Blades of Marmora with them, but he was loathe to ask her to leave again after she had finally returned into Keith’s life. He couldn’t ask Keith to sacrifice his mother again.  
  
“Romelle,” said Krolia, turning to the blonde Altean, who was not-so-subtly leaning closer to Narti. “I need you to contact the Blades and inform them of the situation. They must infiltrate and assist Voltron at all costs. General Narti, I will be remaining here, so if you would not mind accompanying Romelle, I imagine she could use the protection.”  
  
“Absolutely,” replied Narti, and Romelle barely contained her squeal from behind the tall half-Galran.  
  
Keith’s eyes caught his mother’s, a silent question screaming from his indigo orbs, and a slow, rusty smile spread across the older woman’s face.  
  
“I will not abandon you again,” she reminded him. “I promised.”  
  
Keith gulped, swiping at his eyes and chuckling as a smile curled across his lips. Shiro smiled warmly.  
  
“Hunk, we will need supplies,” interjected Allura, sliding the attention off of Keith. “The Balmera has become an intergalactic trading hub; please go to them and collect as many resources as the Yellow Lion can fit.”  
  
“Once we get to Earth, Keith, Shiro, Adam, Krolia, and I stay there full-time,” announced Lance. “If there are additional attacks or questions, and I want us to have more firepower than just the Black Lion.”  
  
He blinked then, and a familiar gleam crept into his eyes. “Or should I say…_icepower?_”  
  
Shiro’s eyebrow twitched, his shoulders relaxing, and Adam snuck a fist bump to the Black Paladin with a snicker.  
  
“I am afraid I must ask for the Castle of Lions to accompany me when I leave for Oriande,” warned Allura. “Oriande is almost on the other side of the universe, and using wormholes without the Castle of Lions is exceptionally draining.”  
  
“I absolutely concur,” added Coran.  
  
“I think we can manage that,” said Keith. “We’ll send everyone else out first, and then Allura can wormhole the Castle to Oriande and pick everyone else up on her way back.”  
  
“Zeth and I will grab a larger fleet and meet you guys at Earth,” contributed Ezor, looping one arm through her girlfriend’s and leaning forward. “We’ll get there as soon as we can, promise. And…uh……”  
  
“Up bip nope!” Interrupted Lance, waving a hand and grinning at the general. “No apologies! Pidge is right, Lotor’s the turd here, not you guys. We’re all in this one together, got it?”  
  
Ezor blinked, the corners of her mouth tugging up automatically, and her usual bouncy grin soon overtook her face again.  
  
“Got it!”  
  
“Good,” decided Keith. “We have our missions. Coran, you said Allura will finish recovering in a movement?”  
  
“That is correct, Number Four!” Chirped Coran, one hand settling on Allura’s shoulder, a soft exchange passing through their eyes.  
  
“Alright,” stated Lance. “We’ll spend the next movement preparing. Once everything’s ready, Allura will use wormholes to send everyone to their locations. The tick you guys are done, tell Allura so you can get your butts to Earth so we can knock Zarkon into oblivion!”  
  
“Roger that!” Said Ezor, giving him an exaggerated salute and earning herself a blistering glare from Keith and a snorting giggle from Lance.  
  
“We must begin preparations for our departure at once,” declared Allura, standing. “Is there anything else?”  
  
No one said a word, all eyes cast on their partners and lists already running through their heads. Keith and Lance stood in unison, hands joined and chins raised, eyes already fixed on the journey ahead of them. It was going to be insane. There were a hundred factors at hand, a thousand places for it all to go wrong and come crashing down on their heads, a million chances for them to lose not just everyone they loved, but also everything they had ever fought for. They had no guarantees of a win.  
  
But Pidge was grinning like a devil at them and Matt’s hands were flat on the table, ready to launch him to his feet and out the door to prepare. Hunk was gulping and pulling at his collar, but there was a faint shine in his eyes, a final overwhelming wave of confidence simmering just below the surface. Allura’s eyes were locked on theirs, back straight and curly hair creating a halo around her head. Adam was leaning forwards, and Shiro was beaming at the two like they were treasures. Lance laced his fingers tightly around Keith, and Keith rested his shoulder against Lance’s, both grinning. They were Voltron’s Black Paladins. They never knew when to give up.  
  
“Let’s get ready, everyone!”  
  
“We’re going to give them the fight of their lives!”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing!
> 
> My tumblr is at https://asagaosylph.tumblr.com/ :D


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